The One Where They're Happier Than They Ever Thought They Could Be
by Oldreruns
Summary: Part 4 of an ongoing Mondler canon series. Now that Monica & Chandler's relationship is out in the open, can they make it last as they both discover true love? (Hint, yes they can). Fills in gaps between S5 E16 & S6 E25. Heart/Humor. Thanks for taking the time to read. Feedback is always welcome.
1. A Complex Fellow

**A Complex Fellow**

After several minutes, Chandler and Monica are finally able to pull themselves apart from the group hug with Rachel, Phoebe and Joey. They turn to look at each other; Chandler wraps his arms around Monica's waist and as he pulls her close to him, she reaches her hands up and clasps them behind his neck. Chandler leans in and kisses her forcefully on the top of her head, as if he needed to establish as much physical contact as he could in this moment to reassure himself that this was real and she was not some kind of apparition. It was real. She was here. She said yes.

He knew how important this moment would be; how much it would change his life. The sheer weight and all of the possible outcomes behind such an act could cripple a man. It was part of the reason why proposals, marriage, and commitment frightened him for so many years. Today though, any fear he felt had nothing to do with any of those things and everything to do with the fact that he thought he had lost this amazing woman that he now holds so tightly in his arms.

He had known for a while now that he was going to propose. It was something that was building over the last year or so and intensified once he and Monica moved in together. Of course, there were little wonderful romantic instances between them that helped get him to this place, but it was really the more mundane aspects of sharing an apartment, sharing a life, that informed his decision. Stupid things, like watching her shave her legs or floss her teeth. Seeing her re-use a pair of sweatpants two days in a row, blowing her nose, clipping her toenails and even finding used tampons in the bathroom trash. His comfort level with all of these things let him know that this was what he wanted to be. This was the life he was meant to live. This is what commitment was all about and he was prepared to take that next big step.

What he wasn't prepared for was the onslaught of emotions that would rush through him like a freight train with no brakes. He never truly understood how people could cry when they were happy. It made no sense to him. There's happy which involves smiling and then there's sad which involves crying. Yet, here he is with stray tears rolling down his cheeks as this super-adrenalized euphoria overpowered him to the point that he was practically giggling. He looked over at Monica and he realized, as their eyes met, that she was doing the exact same thing.

Monica couldn't help herself though, just a few short hours ago, she thought her entire world was crumbling apart. That he was inexplicably changing and becoming someone else. Someone who didn't want to be with her for the rest of his life in the same way that she wanted to be with him. After all this time, and all the hints and conversations that skirted around the subject of marriage, but left enough meat on the bone to resonate with them both that this was where they were headed, he had pulled the rug out from under her. Leaving her in a state of emotional vertigo. It drove her insane, made her irrational and forced her to question everything that she had known to be true.

Yet, here they stood, all that ridiculous, self-inflicted drama washed away and all that was left was this perfect moment, against the soft glow of a hundred candles. She was engaged to the man she loved. Her best friend. She wanted to shout it out to the heavens, loud enough to carry all the way to Long Island so her mother could hear. She was going to get married. Her body was shaking with endorphins. She was so excited she felt like she would burst.

Chandler pulled back a bit from her, but kept his hands wrapped around her waist tightly, as if she were the only thing tethering him to the earth. He was too afraid to even raise up one hand to wipe a tear away and instead tried to blink them out of existence. He cleared his throat and looked towards Rachel, Phoebe and Joey. "Hey, guys? Do you think maybe you could give me and Monica some time to celebrate alone?"

Rachel and Phoebe's smiles immediately faded a bit, both of them adopting a wounded countenance at the prospect of being kicked out of this celebration. Joey, seeing this, wrapped his arms around them and started to usher them towards the door. "Sure buddy. We get it. You guys want to celebrate." Joey added a wink and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Chandler rolls his eyes. "Joe, we are just looking to have some alone time." Monica, her head laying on Chandler's chest shoots a stern look at Joey as she nods in agreement.

Joey's eyes playfully narrow a bit as a salacious grin spreads across his face. "We get it. You guys want some alone time." He then winks at Chandler and excitedly adds, "Naked alone time."

Chandler scoffs. "Joe. You're talking about my girlfriend."

Monica raises an agitated eyebrow and points an admonishing finger up at Chandler. "Fiancé! I didn't light all of these candles so I could still be somebody's stupid girlfriend!"

Chandler nods and finally finds the wherewithal to loosen his grip on Monica as he lifts one hand up, gesturing his surrender. "You're right. You're right. Guys, my fiancé and I," He looks down at Monica for approval and she flashes a smile that reveled in hearing the word fall from his lips, snuggling her head against his chest once more. He continued, "would like a little privacy."

Rachel, finally coming to her senses and recognizing the groups trespass on this moment between two of her best friends, reaches out and grabs Phoebe by the hand. "Of course, we can give you guys some privacy. How about we go try to find Ross and we all meet up back here in an hour for some champagne?"

Phoebe lets out a loud laugh. "An hour? This is Chandler we're talking about. We can probably come back in ten minutes." She turns back to face Monica and Chandler, assuming they will appreciate her joke, but instead, they only offer her a pair of irritated glares.

Joey reaches both arms out again and corrals the two women, herding them towards the front door and pushing them out into the hallway. Chandler and Monica detangle their limbs and he walks over to the door, shutting it and putting on the chain. Monica walks over towards the couch and holds her ring up, trying to catch the light from the flickering candles. "Oh Chandler. This ring is so beautiful. I don't think I could have ever imagined a more perfect engagement ring."

He laughs as he closes the gap between them, placing his hands on her waist. "You had one picked out already, didn't you?"

She protests with an exaggerated "Nooooo." But then allows a sheepish grin to curl her lips. "Okay, maybe. But this one is better. It really is." She lifts her arms around the back of his neck, stands on her toes and as she kisses him she can feel his grin against her lips.

Chandler pulls his lips from hers abruptly. "Oh wait! I almost forgot! I'll be right back!" He releases her from his embrace and Monica whimpers a bit, already missing the feel of his arms around her. He scurries through the apartment and into the bedroom. She turns around and looks after him, waiting for him to come back, and when he does, he triumphantly holds up a cassette tape.

"Uh, honey. I'm really happy and I think I could probably put up with anything right now, but I do not want to hear Janice singing on the night that I get engaged."

Chandler shakes his head. "No. This is a new one. I made this for the other night when I was going to propose at dinner." He slides the tape into the stereo and presses play. He walks over towards her as the first notes of an acoustic version of "Everlong" by the Foo Fighters begins to play. Monica smiles and stretches her arms out, beckoning him to return to her embrace. As he does, they press their bodies close together and sway gently to the music. She rests her head against his chest, breathing him in. When she looks up, she notices that he has a few tears rolling down his cheeks. She raises a finger up to his face and softly wipes them dry. The look in her eyes matching the tenderness of her touch.

"Chandler. Are you okay?" Her sincere concern almost making him feel guilty.

He nods at her, trying to dispel her worries. "Yeah, yeah. I'm just a bundle of all of these emotions right now and my body is just doing its own thing. I promise I'm okay. I'm just all over the place." Monica offers him a reassuring nod and rests her head again on his chest as they continue their dance. "I mean, one minute I thought I screwed this all up and lost you and now here we are and I've never been happier. These have been the best two years of my life, and it's all because of you."

They grow silent for a moment, enjoying the closeness and swaying together to the music. Monica lifts her head and slides her hands up from his neck and into his hair. Dragging her fingers lightly through his scalp. "I feel the same way. I feel the exact same way."

She rests her head against his chest again, and she can feel his heart beating fast as his breath catches in his throat. She can hear his voice crack and sputter into watery words. "My whole life I felt like I was doing everything wrong. That I just was never any good at anything, and then you and I happen, and for the first time in my life, it's right. This is right. And then, when Joey told me about Richard…" His voice cracks again and trails off. He squeezes her tighter, holding her in place, almost trying to hide his face from her eyes. She can feel his tears just from how he is breathing and she presses a kiss against his shirt.

"Chandler. Oh baby. I'm so sorry. Please, I can explain."

She pulls back again, and looks up at him, but he shakes his head and offers her a weak, half-smile as he pulls her back into him. "No. You don't have to. It doesn't matter. Don't worry about it."

They go quiet again as Phil Collins' version of "A Groovy Kind of Love" softly fills the room from the stereo. Her eyes widen as she tries to understand exactly what just happened. _"It doesn't matter? Don't worry about it?" _She feels his arms tighten again around her, as if he were trying to fuse their bodies together. She was certain she could hear him humming along to the music at a barely audible level.

She was speechless. How could it not matter? How could he be humming right now and telling her not to worry about it. This was Chandler. And this was about Richard. There has never been a time where "it doesn't matter" when it comes to these two.

She had been fully prepared to deal with this topic head on tonight. Once the candles were lit, and Joey was set up to intercede Chandler for her own surprise proposal, she stood there in the living room and waited and it was all she could think about. How was she going to talk him off the ledge? Reassuring him that he had nothing to worry about. Even if that would have been a lie just a few short hours ago when she thought her entire world was fading into dust.

She thought she was losing him. Losing Chandler, and she felt like she was drowning. And then suddenly Richard had thrown her a life preserver. And as she stood there in his apartment and Richard took her in his arms to comfort her, she had a moment. A fleeting millisecond when she got on her toes and looked up at him, studying his eyes, trying to see a glimpse of what she and Richard had together. She thought that if she could just imagine it for a moment, maybe it would provide some evidence that this was the end of her story. That after all the time apart, they were supposed to circle back into each other's lives. Maybe this was where she was supposed to be. But as quickly as that thought entered her head it evaporated. She saw nothing in his eyes. Richard was no longer a part of her. Even more damning for him; Richard wasn't Chandler.

Chandler was the one she wanted to end her story with. She knew it with every fiber of her being. He was the man that she loved. He didn't need three years away from her to figure out that he wanted a life with her. He was the man who knew all of her little idiosyncrasies and never once made her feel like it wasn't okay to just be herself all the time. He was the man that made her finally fall in love with herself. Chandler was the man who loved her, who took care of her, and who pleased her in a way no other man ever could or ever had. Not even Richard made her feel the way she feels about Chandler.

All of this came to her in that brief, unmeasurable moment while she was standing on her toes, looking into Richard's eyes and she knew; it was Chandler. It was always going to be Chandler. And when he looked back at her, she was certain Richard knew it too. She made some excuse so she could turn around and leave, trying not to hurt him anymore than he probably already was. She had to go home, she had to find Chandler and they had to fix this. She was going to fix this. Her life depended on it.

And now here they are, dancing slowly to "One" by U2, basking in the glow of their engagement, and she has never felt more in love than she does right now. All that was left was to clear the air about today and she doesn't understand why he doesn't care.

"Why doesn't it matter?"

Chandler looks down at her and offers an unsure crooked smile. He slips his arms from her body and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, they break into two separate people again. Needing space and movement to find the words that will express his thoughts, he walks into the kitchen and paces. Monica leans up against the back of the couch. He looks down, afraid to meet her gaze. "I guess it doesn't matter because I won."

Monica raises a suspicious eyebrow. "What do you mean 'you won'?"

He puts his hands in his pockets and his eyes dart from the floor to the kitchen table and back again. He shuffles his feet nervously. "Richard and I both offered you the same thing. Marriage, kids, happily ever after. We offered you the same future." A small smile starts to form on his lips that is a mix of satisfaction and insecurity. He is finally able to look up at her. "You chose me. I know that sounds childish, and I know maybe I should be jealous or angry or maybe my ego should be bruised, but...Mon, I love you. My love for you will always be stronger than any jealousy or anger or even a bruised ego. My love for you is stronger than anything else I could ever feel."

Their eyes meet again as they stand across from each other, still occupying their own space in either room. Monica tries to contain her smile, not wanting to make this moment about how his words make her feel. Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" starts to play and the two of them begin to eye each other hungrily, but resist their passion. Chandler closes his eyes and looks down again. "I guess it doesn't matter because I knew that you shouldn't be with him. You should be with me."

Monica's eyes soften and start to glow with fresh tears. "Chandler."

"The thought of you and him, yeah, that was killing me. Things like this," he gestures emphatically between Monica and himself, "they don't just happen. At least not to me. Sure, we have both been in love with other people before, but, with you and me, I know that we get to be in love with our best friend. So, sure, I make too many jokes, and I can't grow a mustache, and maybe I'm not technically a doctor…"

Monica, unable to contain herself anymore, runs across the room, closing the gap between them. She crashes into him with such force that they almost fall over. She wraps her arms around him and they share a deep, firm kiss. As they come up for air, Chandler smiles and Monica looks up at him once more. "You know, you're wrong. You and Richard didn't offer me the same thing."

Chandler, clearly taken aback, can only look at her confused, his open mouth as his only response.

"His offer didn't include you."

* * *

A/N – Another story and I cheated by jumping to the ending first. I couldn't help it. I had this rattling around in my brain for over two months and I couldn't contain it anymore. I know that this moment has probably been tackled dozens of times and I hope I was able to make this version fresh and different. You'll be the judge of that.

Starting at the end made sense since we all know where they are headed anyway. So, we see where they end up and the rest of this story will be about how they get there. This won't include anything from The One That Could Have Been, so I added some dialogue from that to this to keep it connected. I might do that again if the opportunity presents itself

I have some different ways to present their story over this next year and a half or so of their lives. I hope you guys are interested in going along for the ride. I'm going to try and use a line from the show as the title of each chapter just because I thought that would be fun.


	2. It's So Worth the Wait

**It's So Worth the Wait**

Rachel could only let out a half-hearted and semi-insulted gasp as Joey left the apartment; she assumed he was probably going in search of Phoebe to see if she wanted to "crank it up a notch" with him since Rachel had turned him down. Once he pulled the front door shut and she heard the latch bolt click into place, she let out a laugh. _"Joey Tribbiani looking for a serious relationship? What are the odds? Maybe I should play the lotto tonight?"_

She snatches the gloves and rope she had found in the cabinet under the television back off the kitchen table where she had dropped them during her conversation with Joey and idly plays with them in her hands. When she stopped back at her place earlier, after the last failed attempt to move Ross' new couch, she was hoping that she could find something, or better yet, someone that would help them get it upstairs and into his place. She was also looking forward to getting this done as quickly as possible; instead of wasting an entire Sunday stuck on the stairwell in his building. Now though, after her quick encounter with Joey, she felt this need to take pause and reflect for a few minutes.

She leans back on the sink and raises the gloves to her face, as if they were holding her chin in a contemplative pose. She plays back in her mind what Joey had said to her moments before his less than flattering proposition. _"They are really tight. That's not a bad situation they got going over there." _Could just being around Monica and Chandler for a little while really have convinced him he needed what they had for himself? Did he really feel the need to give up his lothario ways and find himself a girlfriend just from one afternoon with the two of them? That seems implausible.

Not that being around Monica and Chandler as a couple hasn't made Rachel notice how good they are together. She would have to be deaf and blind not to see how relaxed and happy Monica has been ever since Rachel discovered that she was in a relationship with Chandler. Rachel though, figured that was just Monica being Monica; her being happy because she was in a relationship made sense. She has always wanted a boyfriend. She was never really looking for flings and one-night stands. She wanted commitment and stability. Seeing Monica happy was definitely not enough to make Rachel pine for a boyfriend. She was not even sure if Monica's bliss had that much to do with Chandler specifically and everything to do with her just finally being with someone after so long.

Of course, Rachel was always hoping to find herself in a relationship one day, maybe more now than ever before, but she is certain that seeing her two friends together is not the reason why she wants that. She is more convinced that it may be because she is keenly aware that she is only a couple of years away from thirty. All of those personal goals she has for herself; boyfriends, marriage, children, seem to be getting farther and farther away from her as she gets older. But her desire to find herself a man to love isn't because of some smidge of jealousy over Monica's relationship.

No, Monica's happiness could not have been enough to sway Joey either and start him down this path in search of "the closeness". Joey is not that kind of guy. Although, just a few months ago, she would have thought the same thing about Chandler.

Chandler's part in this is much more of a mystery to her than Monica ever could be. He was never one to stick around this long without some sort of implosion. Rachel has been friends with him long enough now to have seen the worst of him when it comes to women. Yet, here he was, also happier than she had ever seen him before. _"No, happy isn't the right word. Confident. Mature?" _Whatever it was that she saw in him now, it made him look almost like a different person.

Another aspect of their relationship that could be what's affecting Joey, is the fact that they are practically glued to each other all the time. This entire weekend they've been holed up in Chandler's apartment. They came home late Friday night, after Monica's shift at the restaurant, and went straight to his bedroom. No visit into apartment 20 to see what anyone else was doing that night. No group breakfast at the kitchen table the next morning. The only time she knew someone else was in the apartment was when she heard Monica use the shower early on Saturday, but when Rachel came out of her bedroom, she was already gone. If she had not heard the two of them leave his place on their way to the coffee house, caught up with them, and invited herself along, she might have missed them entirely this weekend.

And then there was the touching. All the touching. Monica and Chandler were always close, but now there never seems to be a time when they aren't in physical contact with each other. Monica's hand on his leg, his arm around her shoulders, his fingers in her hair, her holding his hand. It never seemed to end.

And what about the fact that Monica has been wearing sweats all weekend. Sweats. She would never have done that with Richard or Pete. She wore dresses, or pencil skirts or tight jeans. Even if she were experiencing the worst symptoms of her PMS, she would be sure to dress up for a boyfriend. Especially one this early in the relationship. Although, now that Rachel thinks about it, if you add in all the time they were sneaking around with each other, her relationship with Chandler may already be longer than both of those other two combined. If you add in all the time that they have been close friends, they have been together longer than most marriages she has known.

Maybe that's why they seem so happy, because of how comfortable they are with each other. Maybe that is why they can be around each other for such a long time without needing some space. Except for two trips to Central Perk and one to the grocery store, they have just hung out on the Barcaloungers. Reading together, watching movies, cooking, eating, doing God knows what with that tape measure. It is almost as if they are one person now. One goofy and insanely happy person.

Rachel tosses the gloves back onto the kitchen table and folds her arms, as if still frustrated by this idea that somehow Monica and Chandler made Joey want to get himself "one of those." This is not the first time he has ever been around someone in the group who was in a happy and committed relationship. Chandler had been in a few right under his nose. She laughs to herself as she thinks about that, seeing Chandler in his previous relationships probably strengthened Joey's resolve not to be in one.

What about her relationships then? She has been with a few men since she moved in here. Hell, she and Ross were all the group could focus on the entire time they went out. Weren't they happy enough to make Joey think about getting himself a girlfriend? Weren't she and Ross a great love story filled with drama and passion? Isn't that what everyone wants? To feel alive? To feel that burning fire?

Sure, maybe they both tried to make each other jealous when they were not going out. Sure, maybe they fought a bit, and maybe the gang witnessed both of their messy break-ups, and maybe it made the group a little crazy when they tried to balance their allegiance to the both of them. And sure, now that she thinks about all of this, she can understand why her and Ross might not have inspired Joey to settle down.

Still, Monica and Chandler aren't that great. They had that whole apology proposal that everyone witnessed right here in this apartment. Although, they did seem to solve that one quickly. But she is certain they'll have drama. _"They're still in the honeymoon phase, right?"_ Rachel squints a bit, holds her hand out and tries to count the number of months that they have been together with her fingers. She looks down for a moment, "That's a long honeymoon."

She shakes her head and gathers the equipment from the kitchen table one more time. _"Enough daydreaming. I'm wasting time." _She leaves her apartment and walks across the hall to see if she can recruit someone to help with the couch.

As she enters, she can tell that she startled Monica and Chandler, who were on either side of the counter, playing cards. Monica standing on the side near the kitchen so she could walk over and stir whatever she was cooking in a pot on the stove. Chandler was sitting on one of the stools. Shuffling the deck and dealing out new cards so that they were ready to continue playing when Monica came back to the game.

Rachel places the rope and gloves down on the foosball table. "Hey guys."

Monica, not turning her head from the pot on the stove is the first to respond. "Hey Rach. What's up?"

Rachel rubs her hands together hesitantly. "Soooo, do you think can I interest you guys in some manual labor?"

Chandler stops dealing and winces, "Ooo. That does sound tempting."

Monica, still focusing on the pot, never turns around to face Rachel. "I'd love to Rach, but I have been working on perfecting this bouillabaisse sauce recipe all afternoon and I really can't leave it."

Chandler lifts his head and tries to peer into the pot. "Is that the thing you put all that fish into?"

Monica tastes a bit of the sauce from a wooden spoon. "Yeah."

Chandler twists his face into a grimace of disgust. "Maybe I better help Ross and Rachel." He bounces off the stool and grabs his coat from the back of the couch.

Monica, still not turning around, smirks as she cleans the wooden spoon in the sink. "I know what you are doing. You're still going to have to taste this when I'm done."

Chandler sighs, already admitting defeat. "Right, but as long as I don't see you actually make it, and I close my eyes and pinch my nose when you give me some, I should be okay."

Rachel watches the two of them and shakes her head, laughing. Monica finally turns around, pointing the spoon at Rachel as she raises an admonishing eyebrow. "Don't laugh. You're next Rach.'

Rachel mimics Chandler's facial expression from before, sharing is his disdain. "With all that fish?"

Chandler walks over towards Monica and places his hand on the small of her back. "Okay babe, I'll be back in a few. Do you need me to get anything from the store?"

"We could use another leek. I want to try this a different way next and I don't have enough for another batch."

Chandler looks at the pot for a moment. "Babe. I have no idea what a leek is."

Monica huffs a bit and runs her hand up his arm. "Just go to the grocery store on Hudson and ask Jerry to get you a bunch. Just tell him it is for me and he will get you a good one."

"Okay. But a leek better not be a fish."

"Chandler! It isn't a fish!" Chandler leans in and presses a soft kiss just above her temple. Rachel watches her face become serene and peaceful the moment his lips make contact. Monica's eyes close and she leans into the kiss, melting like some lovesick teenager. It is as if just that quick kiss on her head is enough to relieve all the tension Monica has ever felt. A smile spreads on her lips as she gives Chandler's arm a squeeze. Upon seeing all of this happen in the span of a few seconds, Rachel feels like, for the first time, she sees it and she realizes, this is different. Monica's happiness is not just because she has a boyfriend. It is because that boyfriend is Chandler and by some miracle, he is perfect for her.

Chandler slips on his coat and puts the rope and gloves into his jacket pocket. He looks over at Rachel and smiles. "So, what are we doing?"

Rachel rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Ugh. We're moving a couch."

"Why didn't he just pay to have the store deliver it?"

"I'm sorry. Have you ever met Ross?" Chandler laughs and nods as he brings his fingers up to his chin. They say goodbye to Monica one more time as they leave the apartment and make their way downstairs in relative silence. Rachel glances over at him as they reach the ground floor. Chandler hurries over to the door, opening it to let her out first. As they step to the curb, waiting for a slowdown in the traffic, Rachel turns to him once more. "So, looks like you and Monica are doing well?"

And then she sees it again, just like with Monica. It was fleeting as he smiled and looked down. His eyes seemed to sparkle and his shoulders almost appeared to become broader, as if he were inflating on the euphoric feelings washing over him at the mere mention of her name. It is right there in that moment, as she sees his subtle yet almost complete transformation from the goofy, awkward guy he was to this man standing here next to her now. This must be what Joey saw. This must be the reason.

And then suddenly, Rachel is overwhelmed with the desire to have a boyfriend. _"I need to get me one of those!"_


	3. I Woke the Beast

**I Woke the Beast**

Phoebe liked to mess with the Gellers. Truthfully, she liked messing with everyone and anyone about anything, but screwing with Ross and Monica was a special treat. Once you wound one of them up, their indignation could last for days. Just a few words from Phoebe testing their worldview or somehow insinuating that they were lagging behind in some way, would force either one of the two to overreact, overreach and overcompensate. They would practically drive themselves mad as they attempted to get Phoebe to retract the perceived slight or offensive observation.

Even more satisfying were the times that they would cave after a long enough battle of wills and simply agree with her, just so they could end the conflict. That was Phoebe's favorite outcome, because then she could flip her position to the other side, confusing and confounding them; or she chastised them for giving in to her and betraying everything they stood for. It always provided her with endless hours of entertainment.

One of her crowning achievements in regards to messing with a Geller was just a few years ago when she was able to get Ross to go completely over the edge with only the slightest of pushes. All she had to do was question the validity of the theory of evolution and the rest was easy. It also helped her enjoyment knowing that everyone else could see what she was doing to him. Everyone except for Ross of course. They would be snickering behind his back, hiding their smiles, and Phoebe would relish in their amusement. He was so blinded by this perceived slight on his belief system, and on his entire profession, that he didn't pick up on any of that. Instead he spent three days trying to convince her she was wrong.

The more he tried, the more she egged him on. She does not know how she kept a straight face when he started grabbing random things while they were in Mr. Heckles apartment to prove his point. All she had to do was calmly rebuke his protests; add some outrageous theories about alien overlords and conspiracies about manufactured fossil placement, and she could see his mind explode.

He even went through the trouble of signing out valuable and rare fossil samples from the museum, just to bring them to her as proof of evolution. Who knows how he pulled that one off, but it must have taken a lot of effort on his part. She almost felt guilty, worried that if his job had found out about the frivolous reason why he had them in his briefcase he might have been fired, but it was too late for her to back down. He was still on the hook and she loved every minute of it. Then, the moment she got him to crack, she flipped it around. She was especially proud of the glorious maneuvering she had done to get him to admit that there could be the tiniest of chances that evolution may not be real. Betraying everything he had been saying and doing the entire time.

Yes, the Gellers were fun to screw up and twist into a tight bunch, and now that she just observed how Monica flung herself across the room to prove how hot she and Chandler were, her new plan was born, and it elicited a devious grin on Phoebe's face.

She did not even set out to do anything mischievous when she turned around and moaned about already missing Gary the minute he left the apartment. She was sincerely swept up in the excitement of a new relationship. New lips to kiss, a new body to touch. And a cop? That played right into Phoebe's hands of having a strong, authoritative man whom she could also take her own turn in dominating. Gary was almost perfect.

Her question to Monica about when that first stage in a relationship ends was innocent enough, yet, once she saw her reaction, and how she threw herself at Chandler to prove they were still in the honeymoon phase, her mind wrapped around the delicious concept of pushing Monica even further down the rabbit hole. The idea that she could manipulate her friend was too good to resist. Sometimes the most fun games are the ones that you do not plan.

Now, that the beast is awake, and Monica is on competitive overdrive, it will be an easy task sending her over the edge. As an added bonus, she gets to mess with Chandler too. Although, if the plan she is formulating works, he might buy her an expensive present as a thank you for all the sex he is about to have, or he might collapse from dehydration.

Phoebe, still watching her two friends in a state of overt passion; kissing and groping each other demonstratively, she cannot help but laugh. Monica actually slapped the broom and his sandwich out of his hand and onto the floor, giving Phoebe ammunition to pour cold water over this little tryst. She gets up from the couch, smooths out her skirt, grabs her bag and starts to walk towards the door. "I guess I'll leave you two lovebirds alone."

Monica can only respond in moans as she sucks on Chandler's neck, rubbing her body against his fervently., her leg already wrapped around his waist. Chandler cranes his neck in order to make some kind of eye contact with Phoebe. "Yeah, we'll see you tomorrow Pheebs."

Phoebe saunters across the room. "Oh my. There's bread and meat all over the floor. Well, I guess you guys can clean that up after. I'm sure it won't make the floor all greasy and crumby. Oh no. Is that mustard? Oh well." She quickly exits the apartment, a childish grin on her face and she closes the door behind her. She leans against it as she tries to listen and see if she had elicited the desired reaction from Monica inside.

"Mon, we can get that after. You can't expect me to stop what we're doing now! You have me all worked up!"

"Chandlerrrr! You can't expect me to start what we're doing with this food all over the floor! This mess will have me all worked up! And not in a good way"

Phoebe smiles, basking in her triumph and makes her way across the hall. She isn't really ready to go home, and maybe Joey will be there. She'd love to tell him what she is doing, but he has a soft spot for everyone in the group and wouldn't understand why this is so much fun. It's probably why she never does anything like this to him. He is just too precious of a soul for her to corrupt this way.

* * *

As Monica and Chandler rush out of Central Perk, grabbing their coats and practically knocking people over as the scurry across the street, Phoebe cannot help but laugh out loud. Gary, tilts his head a bit from the other side of the room and walks over to her, bringing his coffee and a plate of cookies. Puzzled, he looks out the window and into the street, Monica and Chandler already out of view. "Where'd they run off to?" He sits down next to her and places the mug and plate on the table in front of them.

Phoebe immediately leans over and grabs a cookie. Taking a satisfying victory bite. "Oh, they are probably going to go have a lot of sex."

Gary shakes his head, and incredulous look on his face. "I gotta tell ya Phoebe; you and your friend have a really weird relationship. Nobody on the force would tell me when they were going to have sex. Maybe all you guys are a little too close."

Phoebe laughs. "No. It's not that. Okay, I'll tell you but you have to promise not to get mad."

Gary adopts a reprimanding tone. "Did you break any laws?"

Phoebe flails her arms down into her lap defiantly. "No, I told you I wouldn't do that anymore. Or at least, I wouldn't do that around you. Or, at least I wouldn't so it while you were looking."

Gary shakes his head. Already surrendering to the fact that he has no power over this chaotic woman. He is sure she will be the death of him. "So, what's this big secret?"

Phoebe inches closer to him excitedly. "Well, Monica is trying to outdo us in the sex department."

"I don't know what that means?"

Phoebe huffs impatiently. "I've been telling her how we have been having a lot of sex, and I may have insinuated that her and Chandler aren't able to keep up because they aren't new to each other anymore and don't have the same passion as we do. So, now she is going to try and have as much sex as she possibly can to outdo us."

"I don't understand any of what you just said."

Phoebe waves him off playfully. "It doesn't matter. It's fun"

Gary takes a sip from his coffee and a sly smile spreads across his lips. "Well, it will be for Chandler I suppose."

* * *

Gary and Phoebe had decided to cut through the park in order to get to the restaurant on time for their dinner with Monica and Chandler. Gary thought it might be a romantic setting and made sure to take her hand in his as they briskly strolled down the main path. He reaches an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to him. Phoebe, liking this overprotective instinct he has, plays up to his ego by huddling close to him and enticing him to tighten his grip around her.

Phoebe's brow wrinkles in a contemplative manner, "Okay, so what is a naked person shoplifting?"

Gary looks off, taking his time to respond. "Well, we might say that's a 10-39 in progress or a 10-30."

"Okay, well, how about if someone has realigned a person's aura without consent?"

Gary stares off, a look of befuddled astonishment on his face. "I don't think we have a number for that."

Phoebe, her tone deadly serious, "Well you should. It is a big problem in the psychic community."

"I'll look into that. So, have you talked to Chandler and Monica yet?"

Pheobe shakes her head in response. "No. But I know they've probably been going at it like crazy. I bet Chandler is exhausted. Oooo! That gives me an idea." Phoebe starts to look around the area they are walking in and bends down to pick up a few twigs from the ground. "I'm going to put these in my hair and when she notices them, we can say we had sex in the park."

Gary screws up his face in confusion. "She's going to notice that little twig?"

Phoebe laughs as she shakes her head. "Who, Monica? Oh yeah. Monica would notice a stain the size of a pin head fifty feet away."

"Maybe we could use her in our crime scene investigation department."

Phoebe laces her arm inside his and squeezes tightly, her smile beaming with childlike excitement. "This will be great! She'll think we had sex in public and then she will force Chandler to have sex in public."

Gary uses his free hand to pinch the brim of his nose. "Phoebe, I'm a cop. I can't just let people I am with have sex in public."

Phoebe purses her lips in disappointment. "Okay, what if I let you do that special thing you've been wanting to do in bed?"

Gary perks up, his eyes open wide. "Really? The special thing?" Phoebe nods seductively. A large salacious grin spreads across Gary's lips. "Okay! I'm in."

Phoebe mood returns to an excited, childlike demeanor. "Great! Now, when she notices it, I will tell her we had sex and you say something cop-like about it to make it sound believable."

"Something cop-like? Like what?"

Phoebe tilts her head and looks off to the side as she tries to think of something. "Oh! I know! Say we violated section twelve of paragraph seven of the criminal code."

Gary allows a playful look of shock to wash over his face. "Wait, how do you know that? Is part of your record expunged?"

Phoebe avoids his stare and concentrates her eyes on the ath ahead. "Uh, I plead the fifth officer."

Gary laughs and turns his own gaze forward. "So, I have to tell them I broke the law, look the other way when they break the law?"

Phoebe smiles up at him. "Just this once?"

Gary shakes his head, utterly powerless to resist this woman. "Okay, but maybe you cite the criminal code. I don't think I'll remember that."

* * *

As Monica excuses herself from the table and rushes off, Gary and Phoebe share a mischievous look with each other. Gary takes her hand in his. "Maybe we should have sex in public."

Phoebe smiles and nods. "I can't believe she's actually going to go find him. Do you think they're gonna do it in the men's room?"

Gary smirks as he plats with some of the food on his plate with his fork. "But I thought you said she was a neat freak? She's going to go to a public bathroom and do that?"

Phoebe pulls her margarita glass up and takes a celebratory sip. "She needs to win more than she needs to clean. Should we say something to a waiter or someone else and get them caught! Won't that be fun?"

Gary shakes his head. "Nah, let them have their fun. I mean, we wouldn't want anyone busting in on us, right? Plus, just in case you forgot. I'm a cop. They might ask me to do something."

Phoebe mocks disappointment. "I guess. But I need to do something. Maybe when they get back you can get all angry-cop on them and yell at them."

"I could do that. A scared straight kind of thing."

Phoebe laughs into her glass. "More like scared celibate!" The two of them begin to pick at the food on their plates as they wait. Nibbling on some leftovers.

After a few minutes, Phoebe narrows her eyes as she can see Monica and Chandler walking back to the table from the far side of the restaurant. Monica has her arm linked through his, leaning her head on him, smiling broadly. They reach the table and Phoebe looks up, slightly confused. "Are you guys back already?"

Monica nods. "Hey guys, we were thinking about getting out of here. Chandler took care of the bill already and we figured you guys could finish up and just leave a tip. Is that okay?"

Gary stands up and reaches his hand out, offering it to Chandler. "Sure. No problem. You didn't have to do that."

Chandler shakes his head, dismissing Gary's protest. "It's no problem. Really. We should do this again. Pheebs! Always a pleasure."

Phoebe smiles and nods and then waves to Monica. "Okay, well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" Monica nods and then looks up adoringly at Chandler. He plants a light kiss on her forehead as they turn to leave. Phoebe turns to look at Gary, and shrugs her shoulders with a puzzled expression. "I don't think they had sex. Even for Chandler, they came back much too quickly."

Gary shakes his head slightly. "It was nice of them to pay for dinner. They rushed out of here really quick."

Phoebe watches them as they leave the restaurant, "They look really happy."

Gary nods. "They look like they're in love."

Phoebe looks over at him and smiles at the sentiment. "Yeah. They do." A satisfying feeling of fulfilment engulfs her as she looks down and she notes to herself that the only thing better than messing with her friends is seeing them this happy. "They really do."


	4. Nobody Knows When My Birthday Is

**Nobody Knows When My Birthday Is**

Joey loves Mondays. Where everyone else grumbles and moans about the brand-new work week set to begin, getting back to the grind and complaining about their bosses, Joey simply sees a day with nothing to do but take care of Joey.

On a typical Monday, depending on whether or not he had sex the night before, Joey would sleep late, emerging from his bedroom hours after everyone else was already gone. He would make his way over to the kitchen and indulge in one of his favorite breakfast cereals, reading the box while he ate. He loved reading his cereal boxes. They had jokes, riddles, word scrambles, picture games, giveaways, mazes, and fun words for him to try and pronounce listed in the ingredients. _"Riboflavin? There's no rib flavor in frosted flakes!" _It did not matter how many times he read the same box, it never ceased to entertain him.

After breakfast, he would walk across the hall to see if Monica was still home. She worked late on Mondays and would always have something for lunch available around noon. He would usually walk in on her cleaning something. She would be there in the living room with the vacuum cleaner running or furniture polish and a rag in her hands. He would make some small talk with her and hang around for a little while as she put him to work; moving the couch or coffee table so she could clean underneath them or maybe even dusting the tops of the cabinets for her so she didn't have to climb up on the kitchen counters. When he was done, she would present him with something tasty and salty and savory for lunch. He would put together a plate of whatever she prepared, bringing it back to his place so he could eat in front of the television.

However, when he checked in this afternoon, no one was there. Worse than that, there was no food out on the table. He called out, knocked on the bathroom and bedroom doors, but he found no one. He finally decided to search through the refrigerator, hoping to find something he could eat for lunch. He selected some leftover beef noodle thing Monica had made for Rachel's party on Saturday. Looking around one last time and shrugging his shoulders, Joey grabbed the container of food, snatched a fork out of the cutlery drawer, and carried it back to his apartment.

After lunch, Joey would normally indulge in his third favorite activity after sex and food; sitting in his chair, watching television. He loved to relax the day away in Rosita. She would gently nuzzle him tightly between her armrests and he would find something familiar to watch as he drifted in and out of sleep; napping the day away until his acting class at six.

Today, after he finished up the bowl of food he took from Monica's fridge, Joey decided to spend some quality time with the duck, who had been waddling around the living room aimlessly for the past hour. He took the bird into his arms and settled down comfortably in his Barcalounger, pulling the duck onto his lap. The duck seemed to be enjoying Joey's gentle petting and gave off the occasional, responsive onomatopoeia.

After flipping through the channels for a few minutes, Joey stopped on the E! Network and became engrossed in the show that he stumbled upon. Women in bikinis were interviewing other women in bikinis. It seemed to be some sort of travel show about beaches in foreign countries. Half of which, he had never heard of. He stopped paying attention to what they were saying and instead would tell the duck which of the women in any given shot were his favorites and in what order he would do them in. As far as he was concerned, this might have been his most productive Monday afternoon in weeks.

As he was about to catalog the next group of women on the television screen, the apartment door swung open wildly and he swiveled around to see who it was. Monica lumbered in, a worried and frantic expression on her face. She collapsed into the other chair, glance quickly at Joey, the duck and the TV, causing her to twist her face up in disgust once she realized what Joey has been watching. Joey, shook his head vehemently, an embarrassed look on his face, and he placed the duck back on the floor; the bird waddled its way into the bathroom. "That wasn't what it looked like!"

Monica huffed and shook her head, frustration seeping out of every pore. "Joe. I need your help. I have to do something special for Chandler's birthday."

Joey looked over at her puzzled; he had no idea why she was so worked up. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm a terrible girlfriend. I forgot about my boyfriend's birthday!" She slumped down in the chair, her face completely expressing the dejection found in her words.

Joey leaned forward and looked over at her sympathetically. "You're not a terrible girlfriend. So you forgot his birthday. Big deal. Do you know how much hotter than him you are? Being hot will always trump being forgetful."

Monica rolled her eyes. "C'mon Joe. I'm serious. What can I do to make this up to him? What does he want? Has he told you anything?"

Joey looked up; a serious expression appeared on his face as he pondered her question. "What can you do? What does he want?" A sudden wash of discovery overtook his entire being as he pointed at her excitedly. "Oh! I know! You could play naked Twister. Or maybe naked Monopoly? Ooo! Naked Uno!"

Monica glared at him, exasperated by his suggestions. "Joey! Maybe some ideas that aren't naked games."

Joe sat back, deflated and shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't sound like a happy birthday to me without any naked games."

Monica, trying to ignore his last statement, sat up. "Okay, what did we do for him last year?"

Joey, looking unconcerned, shook his head. "Nothing."

Monica, a little surprised, reached her hand across and placed it on Joey's forearm. "Really? Well what about the year before that?"

Joey, with the same unconcerned look simply repeated himself. "Nothing."

Monica pulled back and sat up. Her neck stiff and her eyes wide in disbelief. "Have we ever celebrated his birthday?"

Joey, again lifted his eyes to the ceiling in deep thought. "Um, no. Ooo, but I did buy him a cake three years ago. Except I ate it before he came home from work. Wow. I haven't thought about that cake in a long time. I wonder if that place is still open."

Monica slapped his arm to regain his focus. "Joey! We have to do something. Are you telling me we never celebrated his birthday? Ever? What about that dinner we had, it was like three years ago?"

Joey nodded and started to smile. "Oh that. Yeah, that was for Rachel. But look, don't feel bad. He hasn't celebrated a birthday since his parent's started forgetting about it when he was ten or so."

Monica stood up, almost shaking; upset with herself and angry at everyone else over this revelation. "Are you serious? He hasn't had a birthday since he was nine years old? Why didn't I know about this?"

Joey sat back, putting his hands behind his head triumphantly. "Well, maybe I'm just closer to Chandler than you are. I am his best friend, you know."

Monica folded her arms and allowed a wry smirk to form on her lips. "Joe, I had sex with him twice this morning. I'm pretty sure I am closer to him than you are."

Joey allowed a salacious grin to spread across his lips as he looked her up and down, impressed by her admission. "Niiiiice." He then sat back up. "Why are you getting so bent out of shape about this? He doesn't make a big deal out of it. It's just Chandler."

Monica looked around the room in disbelief, as if she couldn't understand why Joey didn't see how important this was. "It's a big deal to me. Maybe when your friends don't remember your birthday you can get over it. But I'm his girlfriend. I can't forget about his birthday. Plus, you know, I love him and I want him to have a good birthday." She sat back down, slapping the arms of Chandler's chair in frustration. She then perked up and looked over at Joey, the beginnings of a plan already formulating in her mind. "Okay. So, the last birthday he celebrated was when?"

"Uh, when he was nine. I'm pretty sure he said when he turned ten his parents never showed up and the cleaning lady bought him a twinkie."

Monica nodded slowly. "Okay, so I have to make up for twenty years of birthdays." She stood back up, the challenge of planning twenty birthday celebrations, each one better than the last, kicked her competitive side into overdrive. Her hands flew out and her fingers stretched in excitement as adrenaline pumped through her veins. "Oh man! I have to start planning right away! I am going to throw him the best twenty birthdays ever!" She was overtaken with giddy enthusiasm.

Joey got out of the Barcalounger and stood up, swept up in her fervor. An excited grin spread across his face. "That sounds great! Ooo! You know what he really likes? Strippers. You should get him a stripper for his birthday." Joey began rubbing his hands together in a lascivious manner.

Monica, her energy slightly dampened for a moment by his suggestion, offered him a sigh in response. "Joey. Is that what he likes or is that what you like?"

Joey, an indignant expression falling over his face, turned away from her and stormed back to his chair in defeat. "We like the same things you know!"

* * *

Joey returned home Monday night after his acting class, a little bummed that the cute girl who started showing up the last few weeks wasn't there tonight. He could not remember her name, which she had told him several times last week when they were performing a theater exercise together. He knew he wanted to try and take her out on a date. He just needed to figure out how to get her to tell him her name again without catching on that he had forgotten it. The last time this happened he just called the girl "you" and "lady" throughout the date. It got very awkward when they were having sex and she passionately implored him to say her name. He could only mumble some incoherent words until she called him out on it and kicked him out of her apartment.

As he walked past the kitchen, He threw his coat on the back of his Barcalounger and dropped his keys in the bowl on the counter. He looked around the darkened apartment, seeing no signs of anyone else being home. It is still taking him some time to get used to Chandler having a girlfriend and not being around as much as he usually was. Normally, Chandler would be here when Joey got home, ready to order some food and play a game of foosball. They would brainstorm on how to tackle his latest problem with the girl from acting class, and then end the night watching a movie. But lately, Joey has found himself alone most evenings. Even when Chandler and Monica were in the apartment, they tended to disappear to his room early in the evening, leaving Joey to watch television alone, eating whatever was leftover from their dinner together.

He thought about opening the refrigerator, to see if there was anything in there for him to eat, when he heard some noises coming from Chandler's room. He cocked his head like a dog on the hunt, trying to ascertain if what he was hearing were sex noises, but their voices were too low and the conversation too succinct for them to be engaged in any kind of sexual act. Feeling confident he wouldn't be interrupting anything important, Joey pondered if he could talk them into ordering some Chinese food. He decided to walk over to the door and knocked lightly, just in case his sexual detective skills were not as sharp as he thought. "Hey, guys. You decent?"

He heard Chandler mumble something as Monica called out from the other side of the door, "Sure Joe, c'mon in."

He entered the room slowly, seeing Monica and Chandler seated across from each other on his bed, their legs folded underneath them. There was an empty plate between them on the bedspread. Monica had a fork in her hand and Chandler appeared to be eating something. Joey could easily ascertain there was a cake in the room, thanks to the crumbs on the plate. "What'cha guys doing?"

Monica handed Chandler a napkin so he could wipe his mouth. "Birthday number one! I took Chandler to a movie and made him a cake."

Chandler smiled, still swallowing down a mouthful of rich chocolate cake, unable to speak. Joey's face adopted a boyish look of disappointment. "Oh man. I like cake and movies. What did you guys see?"

Monica placed the fork back on the plate and rested the plate on the end table. "We saw this Matrix movie with…"

Joey jumped in and cut her off. "Keanu Reeves! Dude! You saw that without me?"

Chandler, still unable to answer, tried to make an apologetic face as he nodded reluctantly. Monica turned to face Joey. "I'm sorry Joe, but it's his birthday."

Joey shook his head, turned around and started to walk out of the room. "Oh man. Keanu Reeves and chocolate cake and no one thinks about Joey?"

Chandler, finally finished with the large piece of cake he was trying to swallow, offered his friend a smile. "There's an extra piece in the fridge for you buddy."

Joey clapped his hands together and hopped off, giddy with excitement, closing the bedroom door behind him.

* * *

On Wednesday morning, Joey was sitting at the kitchen table in Monica's apartment, eating some cereal he had brought over. Once he discovered that the milk in the boy's refrigerator was almost solid and clearly inedible, he decided to eat across the hall, even though Ross and Phoebe rarely showed up for breakfast on Wednesday mornings.

When he got there, he saw that Chandler was already dressed for work in a dark blue suit. He was reading the paper while he sipped at some coffee. He could hear the shower running and assumed it was Rachel, allowing a suggestive smile to spread across his lips at the thought of his friend naked in the next room. Monica was sitting next to Chandler and had a different section of the paper for herself. She was picking at a grapefruit she had sliced in half which was resting in a bowl in front of her. "Okay, so what time can you take lunch?"

Chandler, not looking up from his paper, hesitated for only a few seconds before answering. "I can take lunch at one. Does that work for you?"

Monica nodded as she looked off to the side, formulating her plan for the day. "Sure. I can be at your office at one."

Joey looked up at them, shaking his head. "What are you guys talking about?"

Monica put her part of the paper down and filled a glass with some juice. "I'm bringing Chandler lunch at work today to celebrate birthday number three."

Chandler folded his paper down so he could look at her. "Mon, you really don't have to do this. These last two nights were more than enough. I don't need twenty birthdays."

"Chandler. I know I don't have to do this. I want to do this. Oh, and I almost forgot. I also got you this." She handed him a small, gift-wrapped box that was sitting in the empty chair next to her.

Joey watched the two of them as they looked at each other, both of them still holding onto the box. Their faces beaming with childlike happiness. He almost felt uncomfortable, as if he were trespassing on some private moment, even though the three of them have been having breakfast together for years.

This moment seemed different. It felt different. For the first time it no longer felt like Joey and Monica and Chandler eating a meal together. Now it was Joey and Monica&Chandler. They were now one unit with a singular purpose. Suddenly, Joey was well aware that he was now the third wheel in this dynamic. He felt oddly out of place and wondered if this is how Chandler had always felt; all those nights Joe would bring back a girl. He decided he needed to break the tension he was feeling and blurted out. "Hey, I like lunch and presents."

Monica chuckled at Joey as she attentively watched Chandler as he opened his present. He smiled over at her, sniggering as he slowly and methodically removed the wrapping paper. When he finally opened the box, he revealed a sharp looking blue and grey tie inside. Monica began to stammer a bit. "I know it isn't much, but I have to do seventeen more of these!"

Chandler brushed off her concern with a smile. "Mon, it's great. And seriously, you don't have to buy me anymore presents."

Joey rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and whispered at Monica. "Naked twister. I told you, naked twister."

Monica shook her head and suppressed a grin as Chandler got up and removed the tie he was wearing, replacing it with the new one Monica bought. "I love it. I'm going to wear it today."

Monica clapped her hands together and smiled. As she got up to walk over to Chandler, she wrapped her arms around him. "Happy Birthday." Joey looked on, the uncomfortable feeling dissipated and he felt this comforting warmth as he basked in the glow of their affection for each other.

* * *

Chandler walked over to the bathroom in his apartment and poked his head through the frame. "So, Joe, you got a hot date tonight. I guess you'll be out all night, huh?" Chandler rubbed his hands together as he tried to gauge his roommate's reaction.

Joey, startled at first, as Chandler's head popped up into view while he was in the bathroom, shrugged his shoulders and continued to style his hair. "Oh yeah. This gorgeous chick who was on line at the dry cleaners. I'm going to take her out to a nice dinner, show her how classy I can be, and then we're gonna doink."

Chandler's head tilted and his eyes narrowed as he tried to reconcile the two conflicting statements in Joey's response. "Doink Joe? Way to stay classy."

"I could have said doing it. Oh, and uh, do you have like eighty bucks I can borrow for tonight. Classy restaurants cost way more than pizza joints."

Chandler shook his head and reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and filtering through some cash. He counted off a few twenty-dollar bills and handed them over. "So, you'll be out all night, right?"

Joey, stopped playing with his hair and turned to face Chandler as he stuffed the money in his pocket. "Dude. What is going on?"

"Monica is buying me porn for birthday number ten tonight! We're going to order food, watch porn, and then…well…we're probably going to doink."

Joey's face immediately dropped into an envious depression. "Porn for your birthday! I don't think any girl has ever bought me porn. I mean, one time, this one girl I dated shot a porn, but no, never bought me one."

Chandler bounced around, side-to-side on the balls of his feet. Barely able to contain his excitement. "I know! How great is she?"

"Dammit. I love food and porn! How come no one is buying me any of that?"

Chandler stopped celebrating and looked over at his friend incredulously. "Joe, you're going to dinner with a woman and you are probably going to have sex tonight."

Joey allowed a slightly embarrassed smile to appear as he looked down. "Oh yeah, you're right."

* * *

The following Wednesday, Joey was walking back into the apartment building after an audition. He was feeling bummed out, certain he blew it. He had fudged a few lines and tried to use an Irish accent that sounded more like an offensive Asian impression. When the casting director looked at the other two people sitting at the table across from him, he saw "the look" that he has become very used to seeing. The look that said, "thanks, but no thanks", "we'll call you" and "you're just not right for this part." He was just about to open the door to the lobby when he saw Monica and Chandler walking towards him, on their way out. They smiled at him once they saw him standing by the entrance. "Hey guys, what're you up to? I was just gonna see if anyone wanted to go eat and watch a movie."

Monica flashed a sympathetic smile and Chandler put his hand on Joey's shoulder. "I'm sorry Joe, Monica got us a reservation for dinner tonight. It's birthday number twelve."

Monica looked up at Chandler, her eyes sparkling as she giggled softly. "Yep. Twelve birthdays. That makes you twenty-one. Look at that Joe, our boys finally old enough to drink."

Joey, looking slightly forlorn, offered them a weak smile. "Oh. Okay, well you guys have fun. You know, when I turned twenty-one I had my first three-way."

Chandler raised an eyebrow and looked over at Monica suggestively. She shook her head and playfully jabbed him in the ribs. "Sorry big guy. Just two-way sex tonight."

* * *

It was late, well after two in the morning, and Chandler opened the door quietly, hoping that if Joey were home, he would not wake him up as he entered the apartment. When he turned around after gently closing the door, he was surprised to see Joey still fully dressed, with two boxes of pizza on the counter. "Hey Joe, I didn't know if you'd be awake."

Joey looked up from his feast and smiled at his roommate. "Oh yeah, I went on that date with the girl from my acting class. But I forgot her name and got kicked out of her apartment. Why does this keep happening to me? Why can't all women have the same name? Do you know how much easier that would be?"

Chandler looked down and suppressed a chuckle. He pointed at the pizza on the counter. "Joey special?"

Joey nodded and spun a box around, opening it up to offer Chandler a slice. "How was your night? What birthday was this?"

"Nineteen. It was great. It was...it was….I don't know. It's hard to describe. Life changing." Chandler grabbed a slice and took a bite. A serene, euphoric look on his face as he stared off to the side.

"What, did you two do it in a new place or something?"

Chandler's face immediately sank at Joey's question. "No, we just went out for some drinks after Monica's shift and she took me to this club where this really great swing band was playing, and it was amazing. They were really good, and we danced all night."

Joey, a look of surprised doubt on his face, jabbed his slice of pizza in Chandler's direction. "You danced? Like real dancing? Not that flapping thing you do?" Joey began to imitate Chandler's odd dancing style, bending his arms and rocking his hands back-and-forth out of rhythm.

Chandler shook his head. "Yes Joe. Real dancing. And, I don't know. I feel like everything is different now. There was this moment and…you know what. Never mind. It was great though."

"Well, you did miss out on a lot of birthdays. Celebrating nineteen in a row must be really exciting."

Chandler, slightly surprised at Joey's astute observation shakes his head in response. "It isn't just that. It's just...ah…I don't know. It's hard to explain. I just, everything felt right tonight. I feel like I see things with me and Mon really clearly now."

Joey smiled and reached over, putting his hand on Chandler's shoulder. "You guys are really good together. I mean, I always knew that, but these last few weeks, seeing you guys all excited to hang out every day, even though you've been with each other non-stop." Joey paused for a moment, trying to figure out what to say next. "I guess, I never saw anyone fall in love like how you guys are."

Chandler pulls out another slice of pizza. "Sure you have Joe. I've had girlfriends before. Monica had boyfriends."

"This is different. You guys know each other so well already, and with those other girls, you might have gone a few days in-between seeing them. But with Monica, you guys see each other every day and it never gets old for you guys. You just left her like ten minutes ago and tomorrow morning, the two of you will be excited to see each other all over again."

Chandler smiled as he looked down, pondering his words carefully. "Yeah, but, what about Ross and Rachel? You saw them together all the time."

Joey stepped back for a moment and paced into the living room. "I know, but they're different. Sure, Ross and Rachel are always going to be Ross and Rachel. But he was in love with her before I knew either one of them. With you guys, it's like I get to see it all happen in real time. You guys falling in love, and it isn't some sappy thing. It just seems so real and natural. What you guys have, it's what everybody is looking for."

They stood there, quietly for a few moments, neither one knowing how to move forward. Both feeling slightly awkward at the direction their conversation had spun. Joey, physically shuddered to alleviate the intimacy of the moment and decided to shift gears. "Anyway, what number birthday are you guys up to now?"

Chandler exhaled and chuckled at the same time. "Tomorrow is the last one, but it is also Monica's birthday. I think with planning twenty birthday for me, she forgot about herself. We're going to dinner and I bought her these knives she was looking at the other day."

Joey looked over at Chandler, his face betraying his skepticism. "Knives? You know she's a woman, right?"

Chandler hopped past him and into his bedroom, excited and giddy. "Yeah! We were at the coffee house and she was looking through this catalog and showed them to me." He charged back out holding a large bag that he placed down on the counter and unzipped it. "She said it was a top of the line professional set that she always wanted but couldn't afford. I'm probably going to be paying these off for years, but I can't wait for her to see these!"

Joey watched as his friend continued extolling the virtues of the knives he had purchased. He sat down, a new slice of pizza in hand, making sure to appear engaged in the conversation. He could not help smiling, seeing Chandler in a state of jubilation over something as mundane as a bunch of knives. It was the same with Monica, when she first brought up her plan of the twenty birthdays. His two best friends, happier than he had ever seen them, and that happiness wasn't because of something they were getting from the other; it because of what they were giving to each other. It was at that moment Joey knew. They were going to last forever.


	5. Charm-O-Ross

**Charm-O-Ross**

Ross watched Rachel as she left to throw out some empty pizza boxes, while everyone else returned to the couch to watch the end of "Law and Order". All of them desperate to see how Joey was going to tell his grandmother that he was cut out of the show. Everyone fully engaged in the minutiae of the evening. Everyone that is, except for Ross, who found himself alone in the kitchen. He didn't really have the motivation to join the rest of the gang in the living room and put on a happy face, or do much of anything else for that matter. He wasn't even sure when he started to wash the dishes that were in the sink. Somehow, he must have unconsciously meandered over there after being shot down by the Caitlin. Although, shot down would imply that his flirting had ever gotten off the ground to begin with and that he somehow actually asked her out. No, he never got that far. All he had done was mumble out some verbal diarrhea that chased her away, down the stairs and into the street; running for her life without getting paid. Trying to cheer himself up, Ross thought, _"Maybe this could be my new calling. People will order pizzas and then I will scare off the delivery person before they can collect. Earning tips and free slices along the way!" _His amusement at that idea was short-lived as he became acutely more aware of his dire situation. Standing there at the sink, in his sister's kitchen, he couldn't help but wonder to himself, _"Is this really my life? What the hell happened to me?"_

He found a perverse comfort with the knowledge of at least one absolute in his life; which was proven after tonight. There was no denying it any longer, he was a loser. A sad, pitiful loser who couldn't even get a pizza delivery girl's phone number. A girl that, if he was being honest, he wasn't even that interested in. Sure, she was cute, but she also reminded him of Chloe just a little too much with her pixie hair cut and her whimsical, independent spirit. He was certain it would have been very distracting if they had actually gone out on a date.

Worse yet, his certainty that he was such a loser was bolstered by the fact that none of his friends even noticed that he wasn't right there next to them in the living room. Not even his sister, who seemed much more interested in going to dinner with Chandler than in consoling her own brother. Throughout his life and through all of his pitfalls, her and Chandler were always his main support system, but now it is as if they can't see how sad and pathetic he truly is. They can't see how much he could use one of their ego boosting pep talks right about now. Couldn't they spare a few minutes to check on him? Has he fallen so low that even they don't notice him anymore?

Just a little less than a year ago he had everything he desired. A great job that he was passionate about. A beautiful woman who wanted to marry him. Two best friends fighting over which one gets to be his best man. A sister who was in his corner the entire time, encouraging him with every step he took. Even his ex-girlfriend, who at one time he thought would never speak to him again, had actually set him up with the woman he was going to marry.

But now? He's single, alone and jobless. He has no prospects; romantic or otherwise.

Ross thought he had everything already figured out a long time ago. After college, while everyone else he knew was still working on who exactly they were trying to be, Ross was already there. He married his college girlfriend and he couldn't have been happier. She was smart and beautiful, she liked all the same things that he did; and most of all, she liked him. They had fun together. His parents were crazy about her, and his sister and best friend were really supportive.

The four of them spent a lot of time together in the beginning of his marriage, and there was a part of him that loved being the benchmark that Monica and Chandler could aspire to. Monica, who was always obsessed with finding a boyfriend and a job in her chosen career. Chandler, who was never motivated by his work and awkward around women. Ross felt that if they just took a few pages out of his book, followed his example, they could one day find their own slice of the good life. After all, he was the golden child. The miracle baby. Who wouldn't want to be just like him?

In those days, when he was still married, that vision of his future that he always had in his mind, ever since his first crush in junior high, was finally staring right back at him. They had a fantastic apartment in a great neighborhood; there were quaint shops and restaurants all around them, and it was also walking distance to this amazing little movie theater that showed foreign films and documentaries. They were beginning to have conversations about starting a family and his career was starting to hit its stride. It seemed all his hard work was finally paying off. Late nights and weekends lost to studying and skipping a grade when he was younger; it was all worth it now that he was right where he wanted to be.

Then, it all started to fall apart. His wife not only fell in love with someone else, but she came out as gay, kicked him out of his home, and wanted a divorce. Thanks to a final goodbye between the two of them, which included one last drunken night of sex, she also found herself pregnant with his child. A child whose life he had no idea how much he would be allowed to be a part. He wasn't even sure, even under normal circumstances, if he had it in him to be a good father. But now? How do three people in such a strange situation raise a child together?

It was devasting, and if it wasn't for his sister and his best friend, he is not sure how he would have gotten through it. Ever since college, Monica and Chandler were always there. No matter where he was or what had been going on, he knew he could reach out to them, and they would take him in; ready to lend a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. It was a comfort to know that they were in a constant state of arrested development and thanks to their own individual, specific brand of idiosyncrasies, would never be too involved in their own lives, leaving him to deal with his misery alone.

Then, just when he was certain that life was some cruel joke, and he was the punchline; everything changed. As if the great hand of serendipity reached out to reshape the fabric of his universe, causing Rachel Green to walk back in; or more accurately, run back into his life. Well, really, into his sister's life, but what did semantics matter when all those old feelings he had came rushing back almost the second he saw her in the lobby of Central Perk wearing that wedding dress.

He has never been one to think rationally when it came to romance; instead he would follow his heart. He was much like his sister in that regard. He left the cynical realism of relationships to Chandler, who never seemed incapable of throwing cold water on a grand romantic gesture. Sure, maybe his resurfacing feelings were just the result of everything that was going wrong in his own love life. Maybe he felt some sort of unfinished business with his childhood crush that he needed to get out of his system. Regardless of the reason, he knew in that moment that he still loved her, and he was so certain that this was why things went down the way they did with Carol. Because he was supposed to be with Rachel.

And then, as unlikely as it seemed it was going to be, and through all the hurdles they had placed in front of themselves, he was with Rachel. He was actually with Rachel and it was perfect. Well, it was perfect, until it wasn't. Until she became so angry and distant all the time, when all he wanted to do was love her. Prove to her he was the best boyfriend she ever had. Instead of appreciating all he tried to do, she pushed him and pushed him until finally, she pushed him so far away that he fell into bed with another woman. Sure, they tried to make it work a second time, but once he realized she was unable to take even the smallest amount of responsibility for her own part in their relationship's demise, he knew it was truly over. He wasn't a bad guy, and he didn't want to be in a relationship where he would always be known as "the bad guy".

Great love number two; down the drain. Back to his support system, back to Monica and Chandler. The two lonely satellites that revolved around him and his life. Even though this time it was a little different, with Rachel still a constant fixture in their lives, but somehow, they made it work. He and Rachel both seemed to be on the road to recovery. At first, all he wanted was for them to be able to stand in the same room together without fighting, but it eventually blossomed into a very close friendship. He even wondered, at times, if they could ever find themselves back to that wonderful place they were in, after enough time had passed. Their passionate, often times adversarial love affair was the kind of stuff Shakespeare wrote sonnets about. Surely, the spark would ignite once more.

But that was before he found love again. Before he found Emily.

Emily was everything he was looking for at that time. She was smart and beautiful. She had that outrageously sexy accent. She got along with his friends and she supported him in every way. Sure, things moved fast with them, but it always felt right. They ran off to Vermont and fell into bed after only one date. He confessed his love for her shortly afterwards and even proposed marriage less than two months after they started dating. He knew it was crazy, but after years of unrequited love for one woman, and a long courtship with another, with neither one of those relationships working out; it was time to try for impulsive love.

Once again, Monica and Chandler were there, playing their parts of hopeless romantic and cynical loner. Neither one having their own love life to focus on, able to give him their full attention. Giving him just the right push at just the right time, helping him find his resolve to commit to this woman.

Then he said Rachel's name, and it was like a magic word that canceled a spell. He suddenly became very aware that he was married to someone he barely knew. The sweet and funny girl he met turned into a very sneering and controlling woman, who wouldn't even sit on the same chair as Rachel once did. Forcing him to move, sell his stuff, and cut people out of his life. Even as Ross tried his best to save his marriage, it became clear to him, that he wasn't trying to save the relationship with Emily, he just didn't want to lose at love again. It was too late anyway. Strike three. Another divorce. Nothing to show for it but some papers to sign. No home to live in. And, for the first time, no Monica and Chandler available at a moment's notice to cheer him up.

He was alone. Sleeping on a very uncomfortable couch, living out of boxes. He didn't even have a place to take his son on the weekends that they were together, forcing him to travel to Long Island, and stay with his parents. How humiliating it was, to have to sleep in his childhood bedroom with his son because his life was knocked all the way off its axis. It is no wonder that, with his life finally reeling out of control, he snapped. Unfortunately, he snapped at the wrong person and lost his job. Sure, he can call it a sabbatical to everyone else, but he knew the truth. His career at the museum was over.

Now, he was no longer Ross, with his life together and his course charted. He was no longer the benchmark. He was no longer the best version of himself. He was no longer the golden child. The miracle baby. Now he was the worst version of his sister and his best friend combined. No love. No job. No home. Cynical. Depressed. Alone.

Only now, they don't really seem that bad anymore. That arrested development they were mired in for so long, was finally overcome. Monica has the job she always wanted; head chef of her own kitchen. All her waiting and sacrificing finally paying off, even if it took her a long time to get there. Her love life seems to be going great, she has the kind of boyfriend she has always been looking for, someone who wants to be with her all the time, someone who knows her inside and out and accepts every flaw. Someone who is never more than a few footsteps away from her, always available.

Then there was Chandler, who has never seemed more together than he has been these past few months. His work, while not his passion, is stable and pays him well; he never complains about it or brings any stress home. As if, once he leaves his office, he checks out completely. Chandler never seems insecure anymore, never complains about his future. He has this confidence that Ross has never seen in him. He walks around as if he finally figured out life in a way no one else ever had before. He never second guesses himself, or buries himself in worry and doubt. Not like he used to anyway.

Ross takes a moment to look at the two of them, and he realizes, he doesn't understand what their relationship really is. They should still be fighting about all this flirting stuff. He certainly would be; but it is like it never happened. How are they not mad at each other? Where is the passion? The fire? Instead, the two of them seem content. Smiling at each other, making sly inside jokes. Laughing together with just a raised eyebrow as a cue. Almost like they exist in this alternate reality that is just outside of everyone else. Seeing things and communicating on some level Ross has never seen before.

No, there is no resentment. No passive-aggressive tension. They're just sitting on the couch, ready to go out and celebrate their ten-month anniversary. Ten months? Neither one of them have ever even sniffed a relationship that lasted half as long, and now they're closing in on a year? How can these two, out of all people, make it work and look so effortless? After all the time Ross has known them to self-sabotage any happiness they ever had. Yet here they were. Love, careers, friendships, all perfectly in sync. And here was Ross, the former gold standard; single, unemployed, divorced, and living in an apartment building where everyone hated him.

For a moment he wondered if true happiness was a canard, or perhaps he doesn't deserve love, or maybe after all this time he still didn't know what real love was. Yet, there was his sister and his best friend. The two unluckiest lovers he had ever known. Showing him a different way to love. A different way to live. And they looked so happy, and it looked so easy. They just clicked together into place. All their waiting and insecurities and dysfunction and arrested development led to this. Every mistake they made seemed to get them here. And they couldn't seem happier. And truthfully, Ross couldn't be happier for them.

Ross picks up a dish towel to start drying some of the plates he had washed, and taking one last glance at his sister and his best friend, he smiles a bit. If they can make it work, then surely one day, maybe he could make it work too. Maybe, all those years, when he thought he was the benchmark, the one they needed to copy to have the perfect life, he had it backwards. Maybe, he should have been following their example instead. Because from his vantage point, here in Monica's kitchen, it looks to him like they have it all figured out.


	6. Backfire

**Backfire**

It was less than an hour into the ride-along with Phoebe's friends and Gary was already regretting it. He has had to listen to these three men argue, play pranks on each other, make bad jokes, whine, talk like the worst stereotype of a television cop, ask for several bathroom breaks, and now Joey was buying himself a sandwich. _"Can I really call them men? They're more like overgrown children!" _He really thought this ride-along was a good idea, and being nice to Phoebe's friends always earned him some points with her, but now, he is going to make sure she hears everything about tonight. Every last detail of how he suffered.

Gary had a hunch this might not be an easy night, having spent a little bit of time with these three already. So, as a precaution, he made sure to push most of his more important case work for the evening onto one of the other detectives at the precinct. It cost him a hundred dollars, but he knew there was no way he would get any real work done tonight, and the reward he would receive from Phoebe for taking care of her friends, would make it well worth parting with some cash.

He did arrange a few stops. Mostly to revisit a couple of witnesses and take down their statements again; just to see if they remembered anything else that they might have left out when he spoke to them previously. He also planned to only respond to non-violent crimes for most of the night, but even that didn't guarantee it would go smoothly with these three knuckleheads. They had just gotten finished dealing with a store owner who was filing a vandalism report and that was a chore unto itself, that took way too much time. Juggling his own questions for the man and having to deal with Ross talking like he was on an episode of "NYPD Blue", Joey wondering if he could buy some food, and Chandler needing reassurance that the vandals were not likely to come back and "try something".

At first, when Joey asked, it made sense to him. The guy was an actor. Gary had driven plenty of actors around in his time, those who were actively researching a role anyway. Then Ross jumped in, and he figured, what the heck, sure. But then, Chandler wanted to go, and Gary knew right then, he had bitten off much more than he could chew. Having three civilians in his car at the same time wasn't ideal, but he didn't want to say no in front of Phoebe. So, he tried to at least get Chandler to back down, and it looked like coming out at night spooked him a bit, but not enough to fully rescind his request. Not enough to spare Gary from hearing him mutter about shadows on the street that look suspicious every time the car comes to a stop.

Ross wasn't any better. He asked a million questions. "What's this? Where do you keep your bullets? What happens if you have to take someone down?" He touched everything, wondering if there were secret compartments all over the car. It was maddening.

And now, here he was, waiting on the side of the road for Joey to come back with what he called, "the greatest sandwich in New York". The guy actually started to yell when he realized where they were and begged Gary to stop, banging his hands on the back of the seat like he was playing the drums. Ridiculous. How these guys got any girl to sleep with them was beyond Gary's comprehension.

Well, maybe he could kind of see it with Joey. He had that quasi-macho Italian thing going on, and no doubt, being an actor helped. _"As long as Joey doesn't talk, he probably does all right."_ Ross seemed way too wishy washy and nerdy to ever know what to do with a woman. Yet, Phoebe told him that Ross was not only married twice but also dated Rachel. _"__Maybe he has money."_ Chandler though, he did not get. The guy could not exude less masculine energy if he tried. He was a little squirmy, laughed at his own jokes way too much, and didn't seem to have a backbone at all. Yet, he was with Monica. _"Kudos to him, she is pretty hot. Well, some girls do go for that wimpy type. I guess"_.

Although, if Monica was taking pity on him, Gary hasn't seen it. He has been watching them these last few weeks and she doesn't come across that way, it seems really genuine from her. Even tonight, when he came to pick them up, Monica insisted on walking him out to the car, where they spent a good five minutes saying goodnight. You'd think she thought he was going off to war instead of a glorified three-hour driving tour of Manhattan. Yet there they were, practically ignoring everyone else while they talked. Arms wrapped around each other, sharing several kisses. It was cute, but it also meant that Chandler definitely was not listening to Gary's instructions before they got in the car.

Not that there was anything to really worry about. Gary would never put any civilian in a dangerous environment; although, he did think it would be fun to mess with them a little bit. While they were still waiting for Joey to return to the car, Gary looked over and saw a clip board with the waivers they needed to sign shoved between the center console and the passenger seat. That seemed like as good an opportunity as any to freak them out about how "dangerous" a ride-along could be. Plus, Phoebe loved messing with her friends and would probably get a kick out of it when he told her later tonight.

Gary's mood was just starting to lift at the idea of scaring the guys when Joey came back into his car and brought him back down again with that damn sandwich. Gary could smell it right away, and knew that scent was going to linger in the car long after tonight. The meatballs, the cheese, the sauce; it was so pungent that Gary could have sworn him, and not Joey, was eating it. Now he will have to park down the street if he wants to surprise this one witness on his list; Joey's sandwich will give them away otherwise. _"These three might actually get me killed tonight. Is he unwrapping that back there? No way! He is not getting sauce and cheese all over my back seat!"_

* * *

Gary glanced into the rearview mirror, watching Joey and Chandler make fun of Ross now that he joined them in the backseat. _"I can't believe I had to actually punish one of these guys.". _He shook his head. One more stop. One more stop and he could take these three clowns back home; better yet, he would just drop them off at the coffee shop where he is meeting Phoebe tonight. Let her hear all about how idiotic they are.

At least with the three of them back there he could concentrate on actually doing his job. He just had one more guy to find. A witness who was supposed to show up at the station two days ago and leave a statement. When the guy never showed, Gary stopped by his place of work, but he must have skipped out when he saw Gary show up. Now he wonders if the guy is flaking out on him, and he really needs his statement for this case. His last option was to try him at his home. See if he could catch him on the way in or out instead of knocking on the door and having him hide out inside until Gary had to give up and leave. He knew that it shouldn't be a problem, even with the three stooges in the backseat, unless one of them starts to make too much noise.

Soon enough, just as Gary had anticipated, he watched the witness park his car and get out as he started to walk towards his home. He was just about to tell the guys to wait in the car so he could step out and confront the guy, when Gary noticed he seems a little suspicious. Moving back and forth, looking over his shoulder, checking inside a garbage can. He was acting weird, and Gary did not feel comfortable approaching him with Ross, Joey and Chandler in the car. He decided to watch and try to get the guys in the back to stay quiet; but that was impossible once they heard that loud bang. Even Gary jumped at first, but he knew right away it wasn't a gun shot. When he turned around, he couldn't help but be impressed by Joey. Diving to cover Ross. Maybe these guys weren't a total lost cause. They are a little immature; but they might be good guys after all.

* * *

Once they were back at the Perk, Gary made sure to get his kiss from Phoebe first, and then they told her the entire story of the backfire. Gary decided to cut the guys some slack. Being a cop, sometimes you forget not everyone has had the same training as you. These guys never went on a stake out, they never heard a gun shot in real life; why not be a good sport and let them have this one. Ross seemed really affected by it in a positive way, and Joey was getting some well-deserved praise. Gary figured he might as well be the good guy and not ruin it by complaining about them later. Let Phoebe think her friend could have been a hero.

The only one who didn't seem to be enjoying himself was Chandler. He was grumpy and dismissive of everything. It was kind of annoying to hear him make jokes and try and take the wind out of Joey's sails like that. What is the harm in letting the guy feel good about himself? He was about to say something, but then Chandler got up, huffed a bit, and left. _"Jeez, that guy is moody."_

* * *

Phoebe wrapped her arm around Gary as they stepped out onto the street. "So, where do you want to eat?"

"I don't care. You pick baby." Gary looks down and flashes her a smile. He knew he was probably in for some wild vegan restaurant that didn't serve a big enough portion for him, but he really didn't care. As long as he and Phoebe were together, that was all that mattered to him. In fact, he would be completely enraptured by her right now, except Chandler's behavior at the coffee shop is just nagging at the back of his mind. Not allowing him to let it go. "Hey, why do you think Chandler was so grumpy?"

Phoebe raises her eyebrows and tilts her head. "I don't know. He probably just missed Monica. Those two are practically connected at the hip."

"Yeah, I noticed that. They're always together, all arm-in-arm and stuff. I guess they really like each other. Don't you think it's too much?"

"I don't know. I think it's sweet that they miss being together."

Gary, looking perplexed, takes a moment to gather his thoughts. "Really? But they live right across the hall from each other. How much can they really miss each other."

Phoebe rolls her eyes and scoffs. "I know. They see each other every day, they sleep together, have all their meals together. They've been doing that for years when they were just friends, but now," She paused for a moment and smiles as she looks down. "Now it just seems to make them want to be around each other even more. Almost like the more they see each other the stronger their need to be together is. It's a little crazy. They even wake up together in the same bed almost every morning, it is almost like they are practically living together already."

"Really?"

"Well, I don't know if it is exactly the same. I haven't actually lived with anyone. I guess though, I can see how it would be nice to come home and someone always being there. Waiting for you. Like a puppy, only its a guy you get to have sex with."

They walk in silence for a few minutes. Gary, still preoccupied with Monica and Chandler and trying to figure out how their relationship works. He starts and stops himself a few times, but then finally finds the words he was looking for. "So, what you're saying is that being around each other so much; days, nights, weekends. It makes them even more close? Like, it makes their relationship stronger knowing that they are always going to be together? I mean, if you see someone first thing in the morning, you kind of have to see each other even when you don't look too good. And with all of that, they still want to be around each other all the time?"

Phoebe shrugs her shoulders and giggles. "Yeah, I guess something like that. Oooo. I know. Let's go eat at Café Delmonico. They have a great vegetarian menu!"

"Whatever you say sweetheart." Gary wasn't even sure what Phoebe just said. His mind was already processing all the information he had just received. _"Chandler was grouchy all night because he wanted to be with his woman. And because of how close they live to each other; they get to see each other all the time. And Phoebe thinks it makes their relationship even stronger. I want that. I want us to be as close as they are. So, there's only one thing to do; I'm going to ask Phoebe to move in with me!"_


	7. That Worked Out Well, Margarita?

**That Worked Out Well. Margarita?**

"Wait! Monica! Seriously, you're leaving?"

"Uh, yeah! I want to get back to those photos that are now a mess all over the table thanks to you, and I do not want to be a part of dealing with Ross after he hears that Emily is looking for him. You shouldn't want to do that either."

"Ugh! You are unbelievable!"

"Well, I don't want any part of this. Come home when you're ready to have a drink." And with that, Monica left Ross' apartment. Huffing and muttering to herself the entire way out of the door.

Rachel was beside herself. Out of everybody in the entire group, Monica is always the voice of reason, or at the very least, she is the one who takes charge when it comes to meddling in each other's lives. Now, she seems willing to take off, drink a margarita or two, return to her project at home, and never tell her brother that Emily called. _"Unbelievable!"_

Rachel could not shake off the fact that it felt wrong to hide this from him. Honestly, it felt like something Rachel would have done back when she was still in love with Ross. One of those crazy, hair-brained schemes that Monica would no doubt have talked her out of doing. The one person Rachel could always count on to protect her from her own worst impulses, now seems like she could not be bothered. Forcing Rachel to act like the adult in the room, or more accurately, the adult in her own life. Rachel had been denying it for months, but things between her and Monica are changing. And she isn't sure she likes this new world that she finds herself living in. A world where she has to make all her choices on her own, without the nagging and persistent counsel of her best friend.

This is not the first time that this has happened. The day of Ross' wedding, when Rachel wanted to see if he thought saying her name meant anything more than just a gaffe, Monica initially blew her off before imploring her to let it go. Then, a week later, when she wanted to tell Ross she was still in love with him, Monica threw her hands up and left instead of fighting with her until Rachel would finally relent. When she thought Danny's sister was some other girl he was dating _"and..ewww!"_ she just gave her a quick pep talk and then scurried back to her room. And now Monica is doing the same thing tonight. Instead of taking the reins and digging in her heels as she tries to steer a stubborn Rachel in the right direction, she is walking away.

This is not how tonight was supposed to go, with them on opposing sides. It was supposed to be a return to normalcy. It was supposed to be a return to their routine. It was supposed to be two best friends finally having a night together, like they used to.

Initially, everything appeared to be going as planned thanks to Gary arranging the ride-along with Ross, Joey and Chandler. Monica and Rachel were finally going to have a real girls' night. A classic, all-night hang-out, just the two of them, for the first time since London. The first time since Chandler.

It wasn't until she was on her way home from work that Rachel realized it has almost been an entire year since the last time they did this. Just Monica and Rachel, spending time together, apart from the rest of the group. Sure, there were moments; an hour here or there, but an actual girls' night? Where they would share some wine, watch a terribly sappy movie that they had already seen a dozen times and talk. Really talk.

They could talk all night about everything and anything during these one-on-one sessions. They might start with gossiping about everyone else in the group, catching each other up with the latest antics one of their friends. Maybe talk about some guy one of them was interested in, possibly share some new beauty tip or fashion advice or a book recommendation. Listen to each other as they unburdened themselves from all the stress of their jobs or the pressure that they both would regularly receive from their parents. That would then give way to a long conversation about exactly where they were in their own lives. And then on to the topic that they would talk about for most of the time, the future.

It was the one thing Monica and Rachel shared in common more than anything else; that overwhelming feeling that they were somehow behind every other woman in the world when it came to the milestones in their lives. If it wasn't about the lack of a boyfriend or at times, their crappy job, it would be about how close they were to thirty with no real plan. Their ability to bond over feeling like they were stuck in the same rut of bad dates as they watched yet another childhood friend get married, or have a baby was the only thing keeping her sane at times.

More important than simply having someone who understood you on that level was the fact that they were also each other's biggest cheerleader. Assuaging each other's fears, raising each other's spirits, while reassuring themselves that everything they wanted will happen for them one day. But now, with Chandler and Monica together, not only have they missed out on girls' night, but Monica wasn't even in the same head-space anymore. Monica had hit one of her milestones, leaving Rachel behind.

It wasn't all Chandler's fault; if Rachel knew they were seeing each other from the start, she might have made girls' night a priority instead of chasing after Danny or working late nights at her job. But she didn't. She just always assumed that these nights would last forever. That Monica would always be there. Now that they finally had one of these nights together, it has proven to be a disaster.

Initially, Rachel thought they would fall back into their old routine. She even grabbed two of Monica's favorite movies from the rental place down the street. Maybe they'd make some drinks, order some food, and, certainly most of all, talk. No distractions, no Chandler coming home from work, no Joey looking for a slice of pizza, no Ross moping about his lack of a job; just the two of them, Monica and Rachel, together again.

Yet, when Rachel first walked into the apartment, her plans for a classic girl's night dampened when she saw Monica sorting through thousands of photos. What a fun way to spend the evening, organizing pictures. She should have known. That is who Monica is; someone who was trying to cram as much into her one night without her boyfriend as she possibly could. It wasn't good enough just to hang out with Rachel, she also had to cross one or two of her many outstanding projects off the list.

Rachel knew what they needed. They needed drinks. Then, Monica would loosen up and maybe shelve this photo organizing for another time. Let Chandler sit here with her and sort through all those pictures. He gets to be with her all the time; this is Rachel's only night, and there is so much to talk about. Her new job, Phoebe's new boyfriend, the cute guy she just ran into at the video store, maybe even more details about Monica's relationship with Chandler.

Unfortunately, she had to suggest Margaritas. She had to be in Ross' apartment. She had to hear that damned message, and she had to accidentally erase it. Now she doesn't know what to do, and Monica; her rock, her guiding light, her annoying conscience, is not really interested in being any of those things anymore. At least, not with the same amount of vigor Rachel was accustomed to.

It wasn't like this with the other men Monica dated. Both Richard and Pete spent enough time away due to their jobs, that they could still do their girls' night once a week. Not Chandler though, he is always around. He was always around even before they started dating. He lives across the hall for heaven's sake. Not only did he always come around, but Monica always expected him to. Neither of them even hinting to the other that they should have some space. It makes Rachel wonder who exactly is Monica's best friend after all.

Maybe it was Rachel's turn to find a new best friend. Maybe Rachel would need to make her own decisions from now on. Well, who are her friends? There was Ross and Joey. They were immediately out. With Ross there's too much complicated history, and with Joey, there's too many overt come-ons. Phoebe could have been an option, but not only is she a little too quirky for Rachel's tastes, she is also dating someone.

"_Who needs a best friend anyway?"_ She could get a pet. Another dog maybe? Man's (and woman's) best friend. Maybe even a dog like LaPooh. Although dogs are a lot of work. You have to walk them, pick up after them, carry that heavy bag of dog food up five flights of stairs. No, dog was not a good idea.

Maybe a cat? She loved the cat her grandma used to have when she was a child. They are pretty self-reliant. You feed them from tiny, dainty cans and throw out their used kitty litter. That doesn't sound too hard to Rachel. The cat could sit in Rachel's lap and listen to everything she would normally tell Monica, and just purr against her leg. Having a cat in the apartment would probably drive Monica a little crazy, but that's what she gets for shirking her responsibilities and forcing Rachel to deal with this whole Ross and Emily mess on her own.

Maybe, she should talk to Monica instead of doing something so passive-aggressive like buying a pet. Instead, have the uncomfortable conversation about feeling left behind now that she is dating Chandler. Tell the truth. That's the whole reason she is here waiting for Ross to come home. To tell him the truth. Her entire history with Ross is littered with miscommunication, poor judgment, and white lies. All the conflict it would cause, forcing resentment to bubble up like bile until they could no longer stomach it and lash out at each other. If there is one thing she has seen with Monica and Chandler that she admires, it is that they don't fight, they talk.

Rachel is knocked out of her reverie once she hears the phone ring. _"Please be Emily, please be Emily, please be…"_

"Rachel! Pick up! It's me!"

Rachel picks up the phone, expecting Monica to give her one more chance to leave before Ross comes home, or maybe to apologize and let her know she is doing the right thing. Something to resolve the tension she feels about their friendship. She brings the receiver up to her lips. "What's up?"

"Can you see if he has any chips and salsa and bring it back when you're done over there? I'm getting a little munchy."

"_Oh, that's it. I'm definitely getting a cat."_


	8. She'll Always Be There

**She'll Always Be There**

"_No, it's too soon for you guys." _

Chandler had decided to take a longer than usual walk back to Greenwich Village from Gary's precinct. He wanted to take his time and let those words swim around in his head for a while as he thought about his relationship with Monica and where they were. It was quite a turn of events. He was originally sent there with a strict set of instructions. He was supposed to talk Gary out of wanting to move in with Phoebe, but instead, Chandler now felt inspired by Gary's convictions; and all he has done, ever since he left, was wonder when he and Monica should consider living together themselves.

While the idea of making that kind of commitment still gives him pause, it does not scare him nearly as much as it once would have. Chandler, from a year ago, would be filled with dread and anxiety. Instead, it actually sounded kind of nice after listening to Gary talk about it. Was how Gary felt about Phoebe so different from how Chandler felt about Monica? Couldn't Chandler say the same thing that Gary had said?

_"I was lucky enough to find someone I really love. I want to be around her as much as I can."_

Chandler could certainly relate to the sentiment. He has known for a while that Monica was the best thing that has ever happened to him. She was the only woman he wanted to be with, and he was starting to feel like he meant that in a "forever" kind of way. Lately, whenever he closed his eyes and envisioned his future, she was right there with him. She is the best thing he has in his life. As far as he was concerned, she has given him a life. And in some ways, he truly believed, she saved his life.

Before London, and Monica, he was a mess of uncontrollable self-destructive behaviors. Throughout the last few years, he had sabotaged practically every relationship he had been in. He would obsess over the most insignificant of perceived transgressions in order to push someone away. He could never let himself be happy. It was as if, somewhere deep in the recesses of his subconscious, he never felt as if he deserved to be happy. When it came to relationships, he was his own worst enemy.

In addition to a woeful love-life, his health was not always great either. At one time he lost a dangerous amount of weight, he smoked on-and-off for most of his life, and he worked long hours at a mind-numbing job. His sleep habits were terrible, staying up late watching television, or, before the Perk opened up, he would spend his nights drinking at the bar. His diet consisted of beer and take-out food. Poor habits that he still indulged in up until they left for London. He simply was not taking care of himself and he was no longer twenty-five and impervious to the ill effects of a terrible lifestyle.

Now? Well, Monica definitely would not stand for any of that. She has made it very clear how she felt about smoking. Because of her persistence, he has not smoked in months, as long as you don't count the drag he stole off Rachel's boss' cigarette right around the time of his birthday as smoking. She also kept him physically active, more than he has ever been before. Mostly it is due to all the sex they have been having; but also, thanks to their long walks through the city or the occasional afternoon spent down at the tennis courts.

She fed him well, not take-out or pizza or some fast fried, barely edible thing that some people might claim is food. Junk that he was accustomed to sharing with Joey. No. It was real food from actual ingredients that he could see. Homemade soups and chilis, tender chicken breasts, salads, fresh breads, sliced fruit, cheeses, tomato sauce from scratch. The variety of foods she provided on an almost nightly basis, seemed endless.

She has him on a better sleep schedule that leaves him feeling fairly energized most mornings. A concept that was foreign to him for most of his life. Some of that extra sleep was due to the fact that everyone found out about them. It meant there was no reason to sneak around between apartments at three in the morning anymore. They now could simply announce to everyone they were going to bed, slip under the covers in one of their bedrooms, have some mind-blowing sex, and fall asleep together, usually just around midnight. Sure, there were still some nights where Monica worked late and he would stay up to see her when she came home. Or, maybe one of them would stir in the middle of the night, looking to scratch a particular itch, but it was a far cry from the days when he would only get two or three hours of sleep.

He was even reading more now than he ever has. Monica will come home and find him, providing him with a book or a magazine, something that caught her eye while she walked past the newspaper stand that she thought he would be interested in. Then, on one of their lazier Sundays, the two of them would lie with their heads on opposite ends of the couch, their legs entwined as they both read. Sharing a light snack and some mischievous grins when one of them would allow their foot to travel just a bit too far up the other's leg.

She has him dressing better too. She was always showing up with a shirt or sweater for him that she found while at the store, and as much as he hated to admit it, the clothes she would buy him always seemed to fit better. He looked better. And oddly enough, because of that, he felt better about himself.

And she loved him. She honest to God loved him. Despite all his jokes, his bad habits, his penchant for saying something stupid, or his overall dysfunction; she loved him anyway. She saw that it was all a part of who he was and somehow, that enabled him to learn to love himself.

But most of all, the greatest thing about having Monica in his life, was that she let him love her. And he did love her, with everything he had inside him. He finally found the right woman that he was able to love the only way he knows how. One hundred percent. Feet first. Over the top. He needed to be around her all the time. He needed to touch her when they were together, no matter where they were. Holding her hand, linking arms with her, placing a hand on her leg, anything. He needed that tactile confirmation that they were together all the time. And, no matter how intense it got, she always wanted more. She wanted to be loved in the way he loved her and no other person in his life had ever wanted that. No woman, no friend, no parent, no one. It was as if she not only showed him he was worthy of her love, but that his own ability to love was valued. He had worth.

And now, with Gary so wrapped up in this idea that moving in with Phoebe was the right thing to do, all he could think about was living with Monica. He told himself that it was a crazy notion when it first popped into his head. There was no reason to do anything drastic in a relationship that was going so well. Why rock the boat?

"_No, it's too soon for you guys." _

What did Gary know about too soon? He and Phoebe have only been together for a little over two months. He and Monica were closing in on one year. One whole year with the same fantastic woman. None of his other relationships had ever lasted even half as long as this.

And what is living together anyway? Sure, Chandler was trying to get Gary to freak out when he told him how Phoebe would always be there. But really, how different is that from what he and Monica were already doing? Everything he told Gary is true for him right now.

When he got home, she was there.

When he went to bed, she was there.

When he woke up, she was there.

She was already always there. And it was wonderful. His life, with her always there, was wonderful. In the morning, they would wake up in one of their beds, after having slept together through the night. Meet for breakfast after a shower, then a kiss goodbye as he went off to work. Maybe, they would meet for lunch or just share a phone call in the middle of the day. He comes home, he doesn't even go to his own apartment to change from his suit, he goes right to her. They kiss again, they have dinner. Maybe they go out for coffee, or a movie, or a walk, or they just snuggle on the couch while watching television. Then, they have the most amazing sex. They fall asleep in each other's arms and do it all over again the next day. How would sharing an address change any of that?

And too soon? Not only have they been dating for almost a year, but they have been living across the hall from each other for almost nine years. They've been best friends for most of that time. If anything, it isn't too soon, it is too late.

But Chandler does wonder; maybe they should reach one milestone in their relationship at a time. It made sense that before discussing something as big as living together they celebrate their one-year anniversary. Two weeks. Just two more weeks until they wrap up an entire year as a couple. Maybe it would be wise to do that free and clear of any other distractions that could take away from their celebration. Then, maybe a month or so after their anniversary, he could bring up the idea of living together. The two of them can rationally discuss it. They would need to figure out where they would live and how they were going to tell the others.

Just as he reached his apartment, he turned his gaze over towards Monica's door. They would probably just live there. It is rent controlled. Rachel would have to move out. Joey would probably not take it so well. But there would be enough time to think about all of that. Waiting until after they reach one-year together makes the most sense. Then, the two of them can have a rational, mature, adult conversation about their relationship and when to take the next step. Chandler chuckled to himself. If he and Monica really do this, and they were not careful, someone might start to think they were growing up.

As he walked into the apartment, his eyes immediately fell to the three people there; Joey, Ross and Monica engaged in what can only be described as an intense game of catch. Maybe people won't think they're that grown up after all.


	9. That's Quite a Waste of Time

**That's Quite A Waste of Time**

Upon hearing some low, gentle snores emit from the other side of the couch, Monica peers over the top of her book to confirm her suspicions; Chandler has fallen asleep. She drops the book she was reading to her chest and smiles as she watches him. She always thought he looked cute when he was sleeping. There is no sign of tension in his face, instead he has this serene, content expression. She could swear he even smiles in his sleep. His hair becomes ruffled just enough to look adorable. His snoring is quiet and low, making it so it is not too disturbing, and occasionally his nose crinkles as a result. Despite his protests to the contrary, he always seems to need something to snuggle in his arms when he sleeps. Normally, at night, he would have her to wrap up in his slumberous embrace; but, for this impromptu afternoon nap, he appears to be content, gently squeezing one of her purple throw pillows.

She would normally be a little insulted that he is napping on one of the only days of the week that they both have off work together, yet she cannot blame him for nodding off. They were up all night playing that ridiculous game of catch. She was exhausted herself, and surprised that sleep had not found her yet as well; it seems a lazy Sunday relaxing at home with her boyfriend is all she needs.

They have been alone together all day, ever since Phoebe put an end to their marathon game of catch. Even when she ran off ahead of everyone, racing to the luncheonette for breakfast, he resigned himself to chase after her once he realized she was not coming back. She ran all the way to that diner, thinking everyone was racing there, never noticing that the others did not follow her out of the apartment. It worked out to her benefit though, because once they got there, the two of them enjoyed a nice, quiet breakfast alone, sharing toast and a side of bacon. It was wonderfully quaint.

When they finally returned to the apartment, everyone was gone. Ross and Joey probably went home to crash; they were playing catch the longest out of everyone and were no doubt exhausted. Phoebe must have gone back to her own apartment as well, and Monica felt a slight sting of guilt at not thinking about consoling her more after her break-up with Gary this morning. Rachel was the wild card. Monica has no idea where she went. Maybe she has more cat paraphernalia to give to Gunther, or maybe she ran down to the drug store to get some Bactine for her scratches, or maybe she even went into work. She is mildly surprised that she does not know her roommate's whereabouts. She normally does. Before she can think further upon that thread, the image of that wrinkled cat floods her mind, and she starts to get agitated at Rachel all over again.

"_That stupid cat. How could Rachel think I would allow her to bring a cat into my, no wait, our home? An ugly cat at that! Spending all that money when she still owes me three-hundred dollars. She even made a profit off poor Gunther. She better believe I'm getting my money back from her today."_

Monica can already feel her blood start to boil as she thinks about how irresponsible her roommate has been lately. From her ill-advised trip to London to confront Ross before his wedding, wanting to tell him she was still in love with him, to the whole Danny fiasco, kissing her new boss, smoking at work, and even as recently as yesterday, when she bought that damn cat.

She looks back at Chandler on the other side of the couch and smiles as her mood softens. Even asleep he can sooth her. Who would have thought that Chandler Bing of all people would have this effect on her? Before they got together, she would never have guessed that this is where they'd end up, and now that they are together, she cannot imagine anyone else making her this happy.

She shivers a bit, feeling a chill as the late afternoon sun slowly starts to disappear behind the buildings. The room already losing the warm light that had been trickling through the window, bathing them in its radiance while they lie there in the living room. She shifts her legs so they wedge between his and the couch, warming herself with his body. She reaches up and pulls the blanket down on top of them from over the back of the couch. As gently as she can, she tries to cover them both. Taking care not to wake him as she ensures the blanket covers their legs. He shifts a bit, but continues to snooze the day away, and she does not want him to be anywhere else than right here with her while he does.

Her thoughts return to Rachel and the up and down year she has had. She acknowledges to herself that really, the last two years have not been kind to her. Sure, she got a new job that she loves, but between the two break-ups with Ross, her parent's divorce, her failed relationship with Joshua, dealing with Ross and Emily, and finally flailing around with Danny, she just has not been having any luck.

Monica realizes that maybe she is being too harsh on her friend. Sure, she owes her money, and does not clean as often as she would like her too, and brought a cat that looks like a raw chicken into the apartment, but maybe she should cut Rachel some slack. She is stuck. And, in a moment of honesty, Monica knows that she has not made much time for her best friend. She has been too focused on Chandler and their relationship. Remembering how she felt when she could not turn to Rachel during those first few months and how it was killing her not to confide in her makes her realize, that maybe Rachel feels like that right now. Maybe she has all this stuff bubbling under the surface with no one to share it with because Monica isn't around and available as much as she used to be.

Never in a million years could Monica envision a time where she and Rachel would switch roles. All through high school Rachel was the one dating boys and experimenting with sex and Monica was left behind. The late bloomer. She looks back down at Chandler and smirks. _"I guess that goes for the both of us." _

And now, Monica is moving forward with this amazing relationship and closing in on a one-year anniversary. A whole year. It almost doesn't feel real when she thinks about where she was before this. Her lowest point. She felt so unwanted, so unloved. And now here she is, lying on the couch with the man she loves who is snoring the day away and she cannot believe how happy that makes her.

Maybe now, Rachel is where she was last year. Desperate, lonely, sad, unsettled. Monica thinks about how she was feeling at that time before London, and she wonders if it would have helped if someone noticed back then and said something to her. Spent time with her. Would she have benefited from that? Would she still have found Chandler if she had? Maybe she should arrange for her and Rachel to do something together. See if she needs to talk. Give her a sympathetic ear. Maybe offer advice, or at least provide some comfort if she can.

Just as the wheels start to turn in Monica's brain, game-planning a one-on-one Rachel Green intervention, the front door to the apartment opens up and Rachel walks in. She stomps over to the kitchen table and slides her purse off her shoulder as she removes her jacket. "Mon? You home?"

Monica, not able to sit up without disturbing Chandler, raises a finger up over the back of the couch. "Shh. Chandler's sleeping."

Rachel twists her face up, bemused, and walks gingerly around the couch to find the two of them there. She studies them as they lay there, their bodies squeezed together, heads at opposite ends, sharing a blanket. "Aw, look at you guys. If this was any sweeter, I think it would give me diabetes."

Monica smiles and speaks in a hushed tone. "I know."

Rachel sits down on the edge of the coffee table and allows a half-smile to linger on her lips, her eyes still marveling at their relaxed closeness. "Ooo, look at him with that pillow. Does he even know he's a snuggler?"

Monica shakes her head. "Nope."

Rachel touches her arms and winces a bit, as they are still sore from the scratches she received from Mrs. Whiskerson. "I had to go to the doctor to get a prescription strength ointment for these. They even gave me a tetanus shot. I swear, I don't know what I was thinking about with that cat."

Monica shifts a bit so she can lift her head up a little more and rest it on the arm of the couch. "Sorry Rach."

"That's okay. So, what are you two doing here? I thought you guys were planning on going away for the weekend."

Monica quickly glances over at Chandler and then back to Rachel. "Oh yeah, well, we decided to postpone that."

"Really? This is like the second-or-third-time you guys made plans to go away but then backed out. You really just stayed here all day, lying on the couch? It seems like such a waste."

Monica adopts a slightly exasperated tone. "I got called into work the last time. It isn't like we didn't want to go."

"Okay. I just thought you guys were looking forward to a weekend alone together."

"We are. We just have to work out all the details."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Rachel looking apprehensive. Monica looking offended. Rachel turns her eyes down awkwardly. "Well, I guess maybe I'll leave you guys alone." She starts to lift herself up off the coffee table.

Monica holds out a finger, gesturing for her to stay. Rachel tenses up slightly which seems to go unnoticed by Monica. "Hey. You want to try and do something this week? Just us? Maybe dinner or something?"

Rachel's shoulders loosen up after hearing Monica's question. She thought Monica was going to admonish her for some minor transgression and was pleasantly surprised at the offer. She smiles and reaches out to hold Monica's hand. "I'd like that. I don't think we've done that in a while."

"Hey, you know, when Chandler wakes up, we are probably going to order some take out from the Chinese place down the block. Do you want to eat with us?"

"Sure. Let me know when he wakes up."

"I'm not asleep." Chandler opens his eyes groggily, shaking off the fuzz that he still has around his brain as he tries to return to the waking world. He looks at the pillow in his arms and snaps back, startled by the embrace. "I was just resting my eyes."

"Honey. You've been out cold for over an hour."

"No, I'm sure I was awake."

Rachel and Monica share an amused look and silently laugh. "Well Chandler? Did you have any dreams while you were out?"

Chandler looks up at Rachel and ponders her question for a moment and then looks over at Monica and smiles. "This is the dream Rach." He reaches over and starts to rub Monica's thigh as he closes his eyes again. "Being here with Monica."

Rachel gets up and shakes her head. "I'm telling you. Diabetes." She playfully storms off and walks into her bedroom.

Monica's eyes follow her until the door closes and then she turns towards Chandler and smiles. "So, this is the dream?"

"Oh yeah. There's nothing my mind could conjure up that would compare to you." He smiles dreamily.

Monica smiles sweetly but then an expression of discovery washes over her face as she opens her mouth wide in shock. She slaps Chandler on the leg as she glares at him. "You dreamt you were on Baywatch again, didn't you!"


	10. Road Trip Baby!

**Road Trip Baby!**

Monica and Chandler hugged and spoke softly to each other as they stood outside Phoebe's grandmother's cab. Sharing a final, intimate goodbye on the street in front of Central Perk. Rachel was chasing Joey over to the driver's side with her arms out, imploring him for a hug, which he deftly avoided as he hopped into the driver's seat and closed the door quickly behind him. He looked out triumphantly and offered her a smile and a wave from the safety of inside the car behind its plexiglass window.

Joey, satisfied with how he dispatched of Rachel and her eye-puss, focused his attention to his right as he turned his head to look through the passenger side window, in hopes that Chandler would be ready to start their trip. His face twisted into a scowl as all he could see was his roommate's butt, smashed up against the window. He averted his eyes quickly and banged his hand on the interior roof, in hopes to break up what he considered to be an overlong goodbye. "C'mon buddy! Move it or lose it!"

Chandler pulled back from his embrace with Monica for a moment and looked at her; the two of them sharing a puzzled expression. He smirked and asked her, "Lose what?" to which she could only shake her head.

She snaked her hands down his back, running them along his buttocks as she squeezed them playfully. "Maybe these? You better not lose them. I want them back here in time for our anniversary."

Chandler let out a pleasurable moan and planted one more kiss on her lips as he slipped out of her grasp, opened the door and sat down in the cab. He quickly rolled down the window and reached out so he and Monica could hold hands one last time before they drove away. She looked down at their hands as she realized that this was going to be the first time that they would be apart for a few days since they began dating. "I'll miss you. Promise to call me from the road?"

"Of course, I will. I love you." She leaned in through the window to steal one last, long kiss. Rachel, who moved herself to the curb, smirked and folded her arms as she watched them. Joey grew impatient and honked the horn, startling Monica and Chandler from their awkward embrace through the window. "Okay, I guess we have to go now." Chandler shot Joey an exasperated glare. Joey could only respond with a sheepish grin as an apology.

Monica stepped back and exaggerated a frown as they started to pull away. "I love you! I'll miss you!" Chandler waved out of the window and she returned the gesture by wiggling a few fingers in his direction as she wrapped herself up in her arms. Already missing the fact that his were no longer readily available to do that for her.

"Oh brother. He isn't going off to war!" Rachel rolled her eyes and started to walk down to the corner.

Monica narrowed her eyes and shot her an indignant glare. "Well I am sorry if some of us have boyfriends that we are going to miss. Do you realize this is the first time we are going to be apart since we started dating?"

"Really?"

"Yes." Monica paused in the street for a moment and smiled to herself as she started to seriously ponder how well her relationship with Chandler has been going. In another ten days they will hit the one-year mark. One year without spending more than a few nights apart. And since they came out as a couple seven months ago, there has not been a day or night where they didn't see each other, even if just for a short visit.

She started to giggle a bit at the revelation and covered her mouth. She could not imagine how, one year ago today, she was at her lowest point. About to fly off to London, feeling as unwanted and unloved as she had ever felt in her entire life. Confident that she was never going to find love again, and considering desperate measures to tamp down the ache she had been feeling for months. To think, the answer to everything was just a few feet away, someone who was always at arm's length, so close she could have reached out and touched it, yet so blind that she could not see it. Not until that fateful night. Not until the veil was lifted and she could see with clear eyes for what felt like the first time in her life.

"Earth to Monica. What is going on with you?"

Monica, stirred out of her reverie, looked over and smiled at Rachel. "Sorry." She looked up, they were standing on the corner, across from their apartment building. "Hey, why don't we go home and you can try to give these drops a chance."

"Oh, that can wait. I mean, the doctor did say it would take three months for me to lose this eye. What's another day?"

Monica frowned and shook her head. "Come on missy. March." She put her hands on Rachel's back and started to push her towards the crosswalk.

"Wait, wait. I thought this would be a good time to talk about what's going on with you."

Monica stepped back for a minute, allowing Rachel to turn around. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, the big anniversary is coming up. That's pretty huge. You guys are still okay, right? You're going to last a few more days, right?"

Monica tilted her head suspiciously at Rachel, but then started to think about where she was in her life and smiled. _"Dream job as a head chef? Check. Boyfriend that I'm crazy about? Check. Happier than I've ever been? Check." _She turned her attention back at her roommate and smiled. "Yes. We are really okay."

"Wow. You and Chandler. A whole year. I mean, I knew this would work out, not like some other people."

Monica stopped mid-step and grabbed Rachel's shoulder to turn her around. "What? What other people?"

"Huh, oh nobody. That's just an expression. You know, like when someone says 'they say', There is no they." Rachel watched until Monica submitted to her excuse and nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "So, I know this might sound bad, but I have to know. Chandler? Really?"

"I know. It doesn't make sense. But really. Chandler."

"How?"

"Well, I told you about London, right?"

"Not really. We haven't really been able to talk about everything. Not like we had with the other guys you dated. Now's a perfect time."

Monica pointed up towards the traffic signal, alerting Rachel they can cross over to their block and continue home. "Okay. I'll tell you everything on the way home." Monica and Rachel started to cross the street and she took a deep breath. "Well, I was really depressed, and I thought maybe a one-night stand was what I needed."

* * *

_Monica had just finished another sip of her drink, a bit of liquid courage before she walked out of her room. Was she really going to do this? Is this who she was now? The girl who believed in romance and true love and marriage and babies and family, now on the hunt for the easiest score. Looking for a quick thrill._

_It had been a hard year. No one could blame her for doing this. Her job at the diner sucked and then she broke up with her boyfriend. Nothing was working out for her. When she finally did turn it around, and get a job she wanted, it was a fight just to get through every night unscathed. She had never been treated so terribly, made to feel so low, made to doubt herself. Maybe, if she had found someone to confide in who loved her, it would have been easier. But every man she tried to give a chance to backfired on her, making her feel even worse. _

_Was this her fate? To work with people who hated her? To never find love? If all of her life choices got her to this point, what good were any of those choices to begin with? Maybe it was time to make new choices, rash choices, irresponsible choices. _

_She grabbed her glass and made her way over to Joey and Chandler's room. One night. Just one night to feel something other than what she has been feeling for a year. One night to forget who she was and where she was and what was going on in her life. A numbing agent more powerful than alcohol. Of course, as her luck keeps running from bad to worse, when she got to the hotel room, Joey was gone. Her last chance, her terrible choice, her easy mark, and now even that was snatched away from her. Of course, only she could screw up a bad idea. Only she could miss out on a sure thing. _

_Then, it happened. _

"_You were the most beautiful woman in the room tonight." _

_And it was as if someone took a hammer to opaque glass that she was encased in and shattered it into a million pieces. Air got into her lungs for what felt like the first time. Her nerve endings tingled and she could see. She could finally see. The world of shadows came into focus and there was this incredibly handsome man who she knew. A man she felt safe with. A man she could trust with her most intimate self. In that moment she was alive again. She was awakened. And she was never going to go back to who she was before this moment ever again. _

_Then in a flash, they were in New York and he was walking back into her apartment, stumbling for a reason to stay and extend the moment they shared and she knew. He grabbed her and kissed her as if it was the only reason he existed and she knew. The world around them dissolved into nothing and she knew. She knew that everything she had felt that night, he felt it too. Everything she was feeling in the moment when he kissed her in her kitchen after everyone else had left, he was feeling it too._

_They drained every second out of every minute that they could be alone together. Kissing, touching, making love, holding each other. It didn't matter where they were. Her place, his place, the hallway, the roof, a closet, the back seat of a cab; as long as they could be with each other, it didn't matter where they were. _

_It made no sense. He had always been there. All these years. Why did it take so long if he was always there? Did he always look at her with those eyes? Did she miss it somehow? Was he always available to make her feel desired? Wanted? Needed? Loved? Had she missed out on years of feeling this good? Or was he walking around in a fog, just like her. Maybe, he needed her to break his glass too. _

_It didn't matter. They were living together in stolen moments now. She wanted him. He wanted her. Every time she entered the room, he wanted her. He didn't want some nameless replaceable woman. A faceless, backless dress. It was her he wanted. Monica Geller. He wanted every piece of her, even the pieces she tries to hide from other men. The pieces of her that scare people. The pieces of her that she knew she could trust him to love. He wanted the entire package, he wanted all of her. He knew her and the freedom she felt with that knowledge was unlike anything she had ever known. _

_She wonders sometimes, that maybe, in that first second that her lips crashed into his on that fateful night in London, if they loved each other right then and there, but were too scared or too stupid to acknowledge it. That the reason that night was so incredible, so earth-shatteringly powerful, was because of this love they had always had for each other, somewhere under the surface of their friendship, and maybe they were just too blind to see it. Maybe, the reason why less than twenty-four hours later, her body ached with desire for his touch, with this singular need for him, when by all rights she should have been well satiated, was because she had been depriving herself of this thing that her soul required for years without her ever even knowing it. _

_He was everything she didn't even know she needed. He was attentive, adoring, sweet, handsome, sexy, insatiable, warm, kind, and he loved her with every inch of his heart. He held nothing back. He looked at her with a gaze that bathed her in affection. He looked at her as if she were brand new. Each and every time she would undress, he would react as if it were the first time he ever seen her naked. It was intoxicating to be that desired. _

_Then, in the most unlikely of ways, he declared his love for her in front of everyone. Shouting as if his life depended on it. She could never have imagined someone loving her that much that they needed to scream it aloud for everyone to hear. And she knew it was the truest love she had ever encountered. Because he loved her even after she forced him to continue with some stupid competition that he wanted nothing to do with. He loved her even after he was exposed to her most irrational need to be the best. He loved her even though her pride almost cost him his job. He loved her even though she needed to switch hotel rooms until she found the perfect one. He loved her. And more importantly, she loved him._

_She loved his stupid jokes, his nervous energy, his sharp nose, his imperfect teeth, his messy hair, his blue eyes, his soft, sentimental nature, the way he listened, the way he spoke, the way he would pout, his terrible taste in food, how sweet he was, how much he cared for the other people he loved. She loved all of these little imperfections that make him perfect for her. _

_Once they were free to be who they wanted to be, it felt right. They were always together. Every night they slept in the same bed. Every day they shared meals. Every evening they made love. They laughed. They felt safe. They felt wanted. They helped each other see themselves for who they really were, perhaps for the first time in their lives. And they made it so even if just with each other, it was okay to be a little bit of a mess._

_They anticipated each other's needs. They could make jokes at each other's expense, they protected each other from their own worst tendencies. But most of all, they knew each other. They knew each other in a way that no one else ever could. They never felt more whole than when they were together. If all of her life choices had finally gotten her to this point, then all those terrible choices were worth it. _

* * *

Monica wiped a stray tear from her eye and smiled at Rachel, who was also swept up and feeling emotional as Monica tried to explain why, after all these years, it was Chandler that she loved. Rachel grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and chuckled. "Wow. So, Joey, huh?"

Monica laughed and slapped her on the knee. "Shh! Please don't ever tell anyone about that."

"I'm just teasing. I didn't really know. We all see how close you two are, but I don't think we really understood how it happened. I guess we had trouble understanding how a one night of sex could have led to all this."

"It really was more than just one night of great sex."

Rachel smirked and waggled her eyebrows. "And he's really the best? Huh?"

"I had more sex with him in one night than I did with Pete during the entire time we dated."

Rachel, leaned forward, complete shock on her face. "Nooooo. Really?"

Monica nodded. "Well, I really only dated Pete for a few weeks. He was away a lot, he never stayed over here, and then when he trained for the Ultimate Fighting Championship he was forbidden to 'make boom-boom'. It was crazy. Months trying to get me to find him attractive and then when I finally did come around, we were barely intimate. With Chandler, I mean, I always thought he was attractive, but after being friends for so many years, I guess it dulled that attraction, and then all of a sudden," she clapped her hands together loudly, "BAM! We have sex seven times in one night."

Rachel offered up an impressed expression. "Way to go Chandler."

Monica raised an eyebrow at her roommate. "Uh, way to go Monica."

The two women were quiet for a few minutes. Monica, almost feeling a cathartic release in finally sharing everything with her best friend. Rachel, sat up and placed her hands on Monica's knees as she made eye contact. "Mon. Do you…do you think this is it?"

A grin slowly spread across Monica's lips. "I think so. I mean I haven't really thought about it like that. I know that is hard to believe, but I also know that, its Chandler. And he needs to get there first. But for the first time ever, I am not thinking about it."

"Do you think he is? Thinking about the future?"

"I don't know. I think so. I hope so." Monica sat back again and looked over to the side as she pondered Rachel's question. "What I never realized before was how he commits one-hundred percent to a relationship. He says commitment scares him, but I think what really scares him is being hurt or rejected when he does give all of himself to someone. Like Janice leaving him to work things out with her husband or Kathy cheating on him. I think he was always afraid that how strong he loved them is what really pushed them away. But the way he loves me isn't scary. All he wants is me. All the time. He just wants to do things for me and be with me and touch me and talk to me. Do you know, when I work late, he stays up? Sometimes right here, watching the TV on mute so he doesn't wake you. He waits for me to get home just to say goodnight. It's been almost a year and he still does it. I guess, that could scare some women off."

Rachel laughed and shook her head. "But that's like a drug to you."

"Oh god yes. I want all that attention and I want to be needed all the time. Like how I know you need me right now to help you get these drops in your eyes."

Rachel stood up and started walking towards the kitchen. "I can't do it right now. I've been crying. My eyes are all teary. Let's go back downstairs and get some coffee, then we can come back up here when my eyes dry out."

Monica shook her head and glared at Rachel suspiciously. "Okay. One cup. But then we come right back here and do these drops." Her stern tone a stark contrast to the gentle one she had throughout their conversation.

Rachel smiled triumphantly and opened the door to the apartment. "Oh Mon, don't be such a grouch. You just told me how you're in looooovvveee!" Rachel ran out into the hallway laughing with Monica shaking her head, close behind her.


	11. Don't Say You're Sorry With Porn

**Don't Say You're Sorry With Porn**

Once Phoebe realizes that Ross had only called her boring in a dream, everything finally seems to be back to normal with the group. Well, almost everything. Joey is still gone and he is still angry at Chandler, and now he will not even talk to him. Hanging up the phone before Chandler can even get a word in. "Guys, seriously. What should I do? Do you think I could convince Joey that I said all that stuff in a dream too?"

Monica shakes her head and tries not to laugh at his joke, preferring to take the rift between her boyfriend and his roommate seriously. She leans over the back of the couch and runs her hands across his shoulders and then down his chest, resting her chin on the top of his head. "Well, if we don't send porn, could we deliver him some food? How many pizzas does it take to say 'I'm sorry'?"

Chandler nods, "You know. That's not a bad idea."

Phoebe scrunches her face as if in protest. "I don't know. Have you ever had pizza in Vegas? It's not very good. It definitely isn't anything like New York pizza. He might think you were mad at him and trying to get back at him for kicking you out of the car."

Chandler reluctantly nods in agreement. "That's true."

Ross sits down on the arm of the chair next to Phoebe and allows his fingers to dance on his chin while he thinks. "Do we even know where he is going to be staying?"

Chandler rolls his eyes. "No, he was going to stay in my room with me when we got there. For all I know, he is sleeping in the cab. All cold and hungry. We have got to find him."

Phoebe shakes her head. "Oh, I would not sleep in the cab if I were him. That's where Mr. Patchy Bear sleeps."

The other three friends all look at each other, sharing raised eyebrows and confused expressions. Chandler raises his index finger, gesturing to them to give him a minute. "That's okay. I'll ask." He turns to face Phoebe. "Who exactly is Mr. Patchy Bear?"

"Oh, he is this sweet little raccoon that lives under the front seat. Well, he isn't that little, and he isn't so much as sweet as he is scratchy. Oh, maybe I should have named him Mr. Scratchy Bear!"

Ross looks at Monica and Chandler, his eyes wide with horror. "Phoebe! You can't let a raccoon live in your grandmother's cab!"

Phoebe points up at him sternly. "Do you want to go back on my list? Because this is how you go back on my list!" She then turns to Monica. "By the way, did you find my list?"

* * *

"Joe? Joey? Ugh!" Monica clicks off the receiver and glares at it. "He couldn't even say goodbye?"

Just then, the door to her apartment opens and Chandler walks in. "Hey cutie! Who were you talking to?"

Monica rolls her eyes. "It was Joey, but he rushed off the phone before I could even talk to him about you guys. He just wanted me to tell you how you were wrong about the movie."

Chandler gesticulates and shakes his head. "Oh man! I have got to talk to him and get this all straightened out. Don't you have caller ID or something? I know! We could star sixty-nine him and call back."

Monica smiles and nods, clearly impressed by Chandler's resourcefulness. "Oh, that is a great idea! You are so smart!" Chandler smiles proudly as Monica turns the receiver back on and presses down on a few keys. "Ooo, it's ringing!" Chandler watches her, his eyes wide with nervous anticipation as she bounces her head side-to-side while she waits for someone to answer. She then looks up excitedly at him. "Oh, someone finally picked up! Hello! Is Joey there? Caesar's Palace? Oh, okay, well, thank you." She looks back at Chandler as she hangs up. "It was Caesar's Palace."

Chandler stares at her and can't help himself from offering back a sarcastic response. "Yeah, I kind of got that when you said 'Caesar's Palace' during the phone call."

Monica narrows her eyes and points at the front door. "You already got kicked out of a car by your best friend. Do you want to get kicked out of an apartment by your girlfriend too?"

Chandler gestures apologetically with his hands and huffs. "Well, at least now we know where he is staying. I guess I could send something there. Do you have any ideas?"

Monica reaches over and takes Chandler by the hand. "Not yet, but we will think of something."

He plays with her fingers and looks down. "I just don't want him to stay mad at me. He has to know I support him."

Monica squeezes his shoulder and leans in, wrapping her arms around his waist for a tight hug. "Oh honey, everybody knows you support him. You dragged us all to that first terrible play he ever did. The one that was four hours long and he had like three lines. I didn't know who I wanted to strangle more, him for being in it or you for making me go."

Chandler laughs. "I know. I just wish he would let me talk to him. I know if we just talked, he would forgive me."

"I think it's sweet that you are so worried about him. I promise you we will figure this out. Now look, Ross and Phoebe should be here any minute to help with Rachel. Let's take care of that now and then we can take care of Joey later."

Chandler smirks. "Will there ever come a day where we don't have to take care of those two?"

Monica shrugs. "Probably not."

* * *

Monica stirs a bit and reaches across the bed in search of her boyfriend's body, wanting to pull herself closer to him for warmth. She blindly moves her hand around only to find his side of the bed empty. Lifting her head, she opens her eyes to confirm that he is indeed, gone. She turns her head and looks over at the clock noting that it is half-past two in the morning. Blinking her eyes a few times until her vision adjusts to the darkness, she then slowly slides her body out of bed. She takes her robe down from the hook on the back of her door and slips it on, tightening the sash as she walks out of her room. She darts her eyes around the apartment, but finds it empty. She moves closer to the bathroom to knock, but stops herself when she notices that there is no light peeking out from under the door.

Realizing that Chandler is obviously no longer there, she decides to step out into the hallway and quietly opens the door to Chandler and Joey's apartment, finding Chandler pacing in the living room with the phone up to his ear. He is speaking softly, yet there is a sharp tone to his words. "What do you mean you won't give out the room number of a guest. Well, what is the policy if it were an emergency? Can you at least tell me if he's staying there? Ugh. Well then how do I send something to someone staying at your casino if I don't know the room number or if they are even there? I order it from the casino? Do you guys have porn in the gift shop?"

Monica grabs Chandler by the arm, tugging on it insistently. "What are you doing?"

He lowers the phone and covers the mouthpiece with his hand. "I couldn't sleep. I thought maybe I would call the casino and have them transfer me to his room but they won't do that unless I know the room number."

"Well, what are you doing now?"

"They said I can buy something from the gift shop there and then they would send it to his room."

Monica purses her lips and waves him off. "Oh, don't do that. It's a scam and a rip off. Don't be a sucker! That's how those places grift the rubes!"

"Mon, do you always talk like a street tough from a 1920s gang at two in the morning, or is this a special occasion."

Monica impatiently shakes her head and takes the phone from Chandler. "Hello? No thank you! We won't be paying five times the amount for some crappy souvenir." She hangs up and shoots him an irritated glare. "Will you please let me handle this. I will figure out what to do about Joey, okay?"

Chandler, still looking slightly apprehensive, eventually relents and nods. "Okay."

Monica offers him a sweet smile and reaches her hand out to ruffle his hair gently. "Let's go back to bed." She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him in for a desperate kiss. "I was worried about you. Never leave me alone in bed like that without telling me. I thought something terrible happened."

"Something terrible did happen. I was a lousy friend."

"Oh, stop it." She laces her fingers around his and leads him back out of his apartment and across the hall. "Let's see if we can get your mind off of Joey for a little while."

* * *

Ross sitting with his arms folded, leans back against the couch at Central Perk and looks off to the side. "What about jewelry?"

Chandler offers a slight scowl and shakes his head. "I did get her this necklace I think she will like, but I already bought her some jewelry since we stared dating. I want to get her something special, something that shows her how much I get her. Something that only someone who really loves her would buy her. I mean, any jerk can buy a pair of earrings."

Ross scoffs. "You couldn't."

Chandler glares at him but decides to let the verbal jab slide.

Rachel sits up as her eyes widen with discovery. "Oh, I know. Tickets to a show!"

Chandler bounces his head side-to-side as he contemplates her suggestion. "We did that already too. Plus, that's more my thing than hers." he suddenly becomes self-conscious and stammers a bit. "I mean...uh...eww plays." He waves his arms emphatically at his friends. "Come on people, this is special. We've been together for a year. Neither one of us has been in a relationship this long. It has to be special and from the heart. So, please, won't one of you tell me what my heart wants to buy her."

Phoebe straightens up, an excited look on her face. "Ooo! You could get her pregnant. A baby is pretty special. And it would be one of a kind, and it would show her that you know her."

Ross and Chandler look over at each other and shake their heads. "Yeah, Pheebs, maybe a gift that doesn't involve me having a panic attack or that makes Ross think about his best friend and his sister having sex."

Ross twists his face in disgust. "Oh man, I wasn't thinking about that until right now!"

Chandler stomps his feet down. "See, this is why I wish Joey were still talking to me."

Rachel laughs is disbelief. "Why? How would he know what to get her?"

Chandler shakes his head. "Oh no, he wouldn't know what to get her. His suggestions are always so bad, that I would just think of the opposite of what he said and buy that. It works every time."

Phoebe raises her hand. "Oh, okay. I can do Joey."

Rachel smirks. "Joey would probably be on board with that Pheebs."

"Oh, I know." Phoebe sits back, a smug expression on her face, and attempts to imitate Joey's voice. "Hey, Chandler. How about you get Mon a pizza."

Chandler shakes his head. "No. He'd never suggest that. It is too obvious. Plus, the last time he bought pizza as a gift, he ate it all before he could give it to me."

Rachel gestures with her hands for everyone to look at her as a prideful smile stretches across her lips. "Oh, I know what he would say." She then deepens her voice, trying her own Joey impersonation. "Hey, how about you let her sleep with me for one night."

Chandler reluctantly nods. "That actually does sound like something he would say." He then stands up and grabs his coat. "Ahhhh! I'll figure it out. Maybe if I go for a walk I'll see something."

Chandler exchanges a quick goodbye with everyone and exits the coffee shop. He looks up wistfully at his apartment building across the street. "Great, now I am going to disappoint two people who live in there." He turns and starts to walk, looking in the windows of the shops as they pass by. "Hmm, a dry cleaner. Do they do tours?" He shakes his head and keeps walking. "Bakery, no. Wine? Well, getting her drunk would probably be more of a gift for me."

He puts his head down and continues his slow stride, past doctor's offices, restaurants, clothing stores, cigar shops and ice cream parlors. Nothing seems to be sparking his imagination. He turns for a moment and contemplates going home until his eyes stop on the display window of an electronics store across the street. A triumphant smile spreads across his lips. Without regard for his own safety he jogs across the street, dodging cyclists, cars and yellow taxi-cabs, until he is close enough to place the palms of his hands on the glass of the store window. His face beams with pride as he smiles again. Stepping back, he does a little victory dance, pumping his fists in the air. He darts his eyes back-and-forth until he finds the door to the shop and hurries in.

A salesman, noticing Chandler's desperate expression, walks over to him. "Hello sir, can I help you?"

Chandler begins to emphatically point at the front window display. "Yes! Yes! I would like to see that electronic Brother P-Touch label maker you have in the window! I need the best label maker I can find! Top of the line, no expense spared!"

* * *

Monica stretches her legs out over Chandler's lap as they sit in on the couch together in her apartment. She wiggles her toes, trying to entice him to give her a foot massage. "So, what do you want to do tonight?"

Chandler, taking the bait, begins to rub her feet, taking care to apply a comfortable, yet firm amount of pressure to each one. "Well, I was thinking, maybe we could call Caesars Palace again and try to track down Joey."

Monica shakes her head as she offers him a sympathetic look. "Chandler…."

"No. Not like before. I was thinking maybe you call this time. He might take your call if he thinks you're a woman."

Monica's tone sharpens as she feels slighted by his careless words. "I am a woman. What else would he think I am?"

Chandler flashes an apologetic look. "You know what I mean."

"Chandler. You just have to wait for him to call you okay. All this worrying is no good for you." She pulls her feet from his lap and sits up to place a kiss on his cheek. "But I love how much you care about this."

"It's been almost a week now. What if he ran out of money? He can't live without his two breakfasts. Or what if he is stuck in some crappy motel. I'd hate to think something bad happened to him all because we're fighting over some stupid thing I said that I don't even mean!"

Monica can't help but pull herself closer to him, wanting to wrap him up in her arms as his concern for Joey endears him to her. "You are so cute when you worry like this." She sits back a bit and bites on her thumbnail. "So, would you be this worried if it was me who wasn't talking to you?"

Chandler allows a sly expression to fall over his face as his eyes almost seem to glint from the light in the room. "Well, I don't think we would go this long without talking."

"Why not?"

"Because you like sex too much."

Monica sits up and pulls her feet underneath her. She narrows her eyes in admonishment. "What? Are you saying that I can't stay mad at you? Because I might be getting mad at you right now!"

Chandler leans into her and starts to speak softly. "Well, see, if you were mad at me I would just kiss you here." He places a small kiss between her earlobe and her jawline, allowing his lips to linger there as his breath warms her skin. "And then I would put my hand here." He lets his hand gently drop to her thigh and slowly glides it up and around her hip until it rests on the top of her buttocks, squeezing her softly with each movement. "Then I would look you in the eyes like this." He allows his face to grow still and earnest as he slowly leans in towards her lips, never breaking eye contact with her mouth. Her pupils dilate and her breath shortens in anticipation of their kiss. He stops himself just before their lips touch, so close she almost shivers in suspense. "Then I would say something like, Monica, I love how you stacked the cans in the cabinet over the sink by size. Have you ever thought about doing it in alphabetical order too?"

Monica, unable to control herself, wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in until their lips crash together. She only pushes him away long enough to breathlessly utter. "Let's do this!" before she pulls him down on top of her.

* * *

"Joey, you really should talk to Chandler. He feels terrible about it." Monica bites her lip, hoping she can finally talk some sense into him.

"Well, good. You know, he should feel bad. After everything I've done for him!"

"Like what?"

"Uh, well…I answered his ad and moved in. Without me he wouldn't even have a roommate, he would just have a room."

Monica's brow wrinkles in confusion as she tries to make sense of what he just said. "Joe, you have to work this out." Chandler steps into the apartment and Monica looks up, signaling him over to her. "Look, he just walked in, why don't you let me put you two on now and we can clear this whole thing up…Joe? Joey? Oh man, he hung up again!"

"When is he going to let this go?"

"I'm sorry honey. I wish I knew what to do."

"Well, at least I put some money in his bank account. This way if he needs to use his ATM card, they'll be something there."

"How did you put money in his account? Do you have his checkbook?"

"No, but at the bank around the corner, he scratched his account number under the counter where they keep the pens."

Monica nods. "That sounds about right."

* * *

Monica exits her bathroom wearing just her robe. Steam from her shower billowing into the room before she can close the door behind her. She looks over into the living room. Chandler is handing the phone back to Phoebe with a smile on his face as Rachel watches on. She turns towards Chandler and bounces over to him. "Hey. You look happy."

"Yeah, I just got off the phone with Joey! He sounded really strange, but he said all is forgiven."

Monica slides onto his lap as she puts her arms around his neck. "See! I told you it would work out."

Chandler smiles and leans in for a quick kiss. "I guess so. He really does not want anyone to go out to see him though. He must be really busy."

Monica looks down for a moment. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, he seemed pretty clear on that."

Monica begins to shrink a bit and slips off his lap, tightening her robe and nervously playing with her hair. "Oh well, good thing nobody is going out there then. So, uh, I'm going to get dressed. I'll see you after work?"

Chandler gets up quickly from the couch and rubs her arms from her shoulders to her elbows. "Hey, is everything okay? You seem nervous."

"Nervous? Me? Nooo. I just wanted to make sure Phoebe remembered to meet us here so we can all go out for dinner."

Phoebe turns around and looks at Monica. "Huh?"

"You know, dinner. We talked about it the other day." Monica looks over at her friend apprehensively.

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Dinner." Phoebe nods and sits down on the end of the coffee table.

Chandler looks back-and-forth between the two women and shrugs his shoulders. "Okay, well I'm off. I love you."

They share a quick kiss and he turns on his heels quickly, exiting the apartment.

Monica mimes wiping sweat off her brow. "Whew! That was close."

Phoebe and Rachel turn to look at Monica. "What was close?"

Monica stammers a bit, almost forgetting that she has not told anyone about the tickets to Vegas she ordered as a gift for Chandler. "Huh, what? Oh nothing. You know. Joey and Chandler were close to not speaking to each other for seven days." She scurries into her room and closes the door behind her, leaving a confused Phoebe and Rachel in her wake.

Phoebe looks at Rachel. "Seven is a bad number. There's the seven deadly sins, the seven dwarfs, seven-up, seven-eleven."

Rachel nods sagely at her friend. "That movie Seven, which was scary."

Phoebe nods. "Oh yeah. But that Brad Pitt is so hot."

Rachel leans forward as a sly grin spreads across her lips. "Uh, yes please. Can I have some of that!"

The two women share a salacious laugh with each other, already forgetting about Monica's odd behavior. Phoebe claps her hands excitedly. "Ooo! Rach! We should go to the movies."

Rachel looks over at the clock. "But I have to work."

"So, we can go when you get off."

"Okay, but won't that make you late for dinner with Monica later."

Phoebe looks over at Monica's bedroom door and shrugs her shoulders. "Oh, that's okay. I'll think of something."


	12. Didn't Feel Anything at All

**Didn't Feel Anything at All**

Dr. Richard Burke stood outside the small Manhattan café, squinting as he tried to read a sandwich board that had some menu items listed on it. He was normally not in this part of town, and never at this time of day, but he figured to look around for a place to have lunch before he caught a subway back to his office. He shook his head as he made his way down the items on the placard. He grumbled a bit as he slipped a pair of reading glasses from out of his shirt pocket and put them on. Tuna melt, Caesar salad, Santa Fe wrap, three bean soup, Rueben sandwich; nothing seemed to really catch his eye or inspire him to walk in, and he thought the prices were much too high.

He lifted his head and started to look around at the storefronts on his side of the block. Deli _"Maybe a sandwich, but there is nowhere to sit and eat"_, pizza _"Lately pizza has been giving me heartburn"_, a card store _"I guess I could just grab a bag of chips."_, a travel agency…that Monica Geller was just walking out of…_"What?"_

Richard couldn't believe his eyes. It has been over two years since he last saw Monica, and yet, all of those familiar feelings he would get whenever they were dating (or even when they were just playing "racquetball"), came flooding back and almost gave him a headrush. Seeing her, here made him think about how serendipitous his run-ins with Monica have been since their initial break-up.

He almost felt guilty, leering at her from a half-block away. He could not help himself. She looked amazing. But then, she always looked amazing. Standing there in this gorgeous form fitting red, silk-printed summer dress. She had a matching cardigan sweater on and her hair was longer than he remembered. He instinctively ran his fingers up above his top lip as he stared at her, still forgetting that he had shaved his mustache.

Would she even recognize him if she turned his way? He hoped so, even though she hadn't noticed him yet, as she stood there, trying to stuff a thin, gift-wrapped box into her purse. She looked around and he could swear she looked right at him. He raised his eyebrows up, almost as a sign of mutual recognition, but she turned away again. Maybe the street was too crowded, or perhaps it has been too long, or maybe it was simply the absence of his mustache; even though he didn't have it the last time they were together either.

He toyed with the idea of waiting to see if she would notice him and walk over. Giving him a little rush of ego as she gushed about how great it was to see him. Maybe she would be nervous at first like last time, but then they would fall comfortably into their old patterns. Laughing, making jokes, flirting.

He couldn't wait. It didn't matter how long it has been since he saw her last, or how much he tried to convince himself he was over her; as soon as he saw her there, he knew he had to talk to her. He had to breathe her in and submerge himself in her. It didn't matter that he was a fifty-one-year-old man, acting like a lovesick adolescent. She had too strong of a hold on him. Maybe she always would.

"Monica!"

He watched as Monica looked down at her shoe and started to twist her foot around, as if inspecting it for something. Trying to find some defect that she sensed.

"Monica!"

He started to step towards her as she checked her bag and pushed a few things around inside. Trying to make room for her slim gift box no doubt.

As he became more frustrated and desperate to get her attention before she walked away, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted as loudly as he could. "Monica!"

Finally, that got her attention. As she looked up sharply and narrowed her eyes, she saw him. His heart fluttered a bit but than sank as she offered him what looked like an apprehensive smile. He shoved his hands into his pockets and lumbered over towards her. "Hey, fancy meeting you here." He pointed up at the sign for the travel agency. "Going on a trip?"

Monica looked over her shoulder at where he was pointing and chuckled lightly under her breath. "What? Oh, yeah. Well, it's a gift for Ch…uh, well, it's a gift. How are you?"

Richard bobbed his head up and down slowly. "I'm okay. I've been keeping busy. You?" He was okay, he was keeping busy, but now; it all seemed to be a waste of time to him.

"I'm doing great. You look good." Monica points at him and for the first time it feels almost the same as before, even though she seemed to be distracted. Richard decided though that a distracted Monica was better than no Monica at all. She held her hands down and looked at her feet again. "So, what are you doing here? This isn't really near your office or your apartment."

"Ah, well, I was visiting a friend. He's a patient and we had to dilate his pupils during his visit. He didn't have anyone to take him home, so I brought him back to his apartment. Now I was just looking for a place to have lunch and by some wonderful coincidence, I get to run into an old friend too." He smiled at her, and instantly started to debate with himself if he was overdoing it or underselling it.

Monica did not seem to notice, or, she was at least pretending not to. Instead, she pointed in the direction of the restaurant he was just checking out. "Oh, well the café there has a great niçoise salad."

Richard nodded as he looked back, recalling all of the unimpressive items listed on the sandwich-board. "Oh yeah, that place looked really good. Are you hungry? Want to catch up over a bite?"

Monica looked around for a few moments, and he was almost certain that she was going to turn him down, but before he could come up with a witty comment to disarm her, she relented. "Sure, I am hungry. Sure, let's have lunch."

The two of them sat with their salads and bottles of water at a table near the window. Richard pulled her chair out for her and she smiled. It felt almost normal to him. It felt almost like old times. Yet, something felt off to him. There was something missing that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Well, how are you doing? I heard from your father that you aren't at that diner anymore."

He watched her as she brushed some hair from her face and focused her attention on opening the little foil package of dressing. She looked back up at him and gave him a smile. "What? Oh, no. I work at a new restaurant now. I'm actually a head chef."

"That's what I heard. That's wonderful. Congratulations!"

"Thanks, it was a rough start, but everything seems to be really sailing along there now." She turned her eyes towards the sidewalk outside, almost as if the passersby were of more interest. He knew though, that was probably his imagination getting the better of him. "I guess my dad told you."

Richard winced, he never shied away from uncomfortable topics, but talking about Monica's father always made their age difference take centerstage in his mind. "Actually, I don't see your dad as much as I used to. I think he is still a little mad at me about, well, about us. I'm trying to get a golf game going, but he always seems to have something come up."

Monica patted him on the hand and he could swear it almost burned his skin. She looked at him with sympathy in her eyes. "Oh, well, he'll come around."

Richard watched Monica as she looked out the window again. She was taking small bites from her salad. He studied her jawline and let his eyes slowly drag down her neck. He had almost followed a trail of her freckles down to her chest when he realized what he must look like to her. Why did this feel so strained? "So, uh, where you going?"

Monica turned to look back at him, and her brow furrowed in a familiar way. Something he had seen dozens of times before. "What do you mean?

"Your trip."

"Oh. Vegas. They're a gift."

Richard chuckled to himself as he realizes she had repeated herself. "I know. I saw the ribbon and the wrapping paper. I didn't know travel agents wrapped ticket for you."

He saw a flash of embarrassment on Monica's face, reminding him of the times she would share a small, private piece of herself with him. "Oh no, they don't. I brought my own box, paper and ribbon."

Richard decided to try and put her at ease with an understated chuckle. "Oh, you have a lot of extra ribbon lying around?"

Monica's face lit up, and for a brief moment, Richard wondered if he had broken through. If the rust on their chemistry was finally being shaken off. "Yeah, a whole drawer. I've had it for years. Oh, I guess you never really saw the ribbon drawer."

"A whole drawer just for ribbon? No, I think I would have remembered that. So, who are they for?"

Richard noted that it looked like Monica was becoming uncomfortable. Her eyes flashed a mix of apprehension, and he thought, perhaps; was that also sympathy he detected? "Well, um, they're for my boyfriend. I'm seeing someone."

It felt like a thud against his entire being. He was practically shell-shocked. Even though, it made perfect sense that she would have a boyfriend. This was Monica. Smart, beautiful, amazing. Richard realized he was silent for too long after her admission, and he found himself stumbling to produce a half-hearted "Oh."

Then he saw it. He saw for the first time what was missing. Why he felt off. That sparkle in her eye. The excited tone in her voice. The crinkle that would appear on her nose when she was truly happy. "Yeah, it is actually how we are going to celebrate our one-year anniversary."

Richard knew he looked cool, calm and collected. He had gotten to be an expert at projecting outward confidence thanks to his divorce. Yet, on the inside, he was practically screaming in shock. A year? He barely got five months and some other man has had her for a year? He forced another smile and nodded. "Wow. That's great Monica. Really great. So, who is this lucky guy?"

There it was again. That sparkle. That glow. That undeniable energy she gives off when she is blissful. He would recognize it anywhere. It was as nourishing to him as the sun, yet he knew, it was not for him. He was merely basking in the radiance that belonged to another man now. "Well, you remember Chandler, right?"

"Of course. Does he have a brother or something?"

Monica laughed again, but he could tell it was almost a defensive laugh. "No, actually, it is Chandler. Chandler is my boyfriend."

"Ahh." Richard forced himself to nod again. "That actually kind of makes sense."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. You two always seemed to get along. He's a great guy. Why not?"

"That is not the reaction most people have when I tell them that."

The rest of the meal gets dominated by small talk. He updated her on his kids, told a funny anecdote about a patient. She told him about Ross and Emily. About Phoebe and the triplets. He could not help but notice that there were more awkward silences than they would usually have had between the two of them. That they both seemed to be straining to reach some sort of common ground, which used to come so naturally to them. And he could not help but feel like she was just running out the clock on this impromptu lunch date.

Richard made sure to be nice, friendly, and interested in all the stories she shared with him about her friends. He even knew the appropriate moments to laugh or to smile. To any outside observer, he would look to have been having a wonderful time, enjoying a casual meal with a friend. Maybe, even to Monica, he would look that way. He was expertly duplicitous, projecting everything he that he was not feeling. Even almost fooling himself.

Because, if he were being honest, he felt like he was at a wake.

They said goodbye outside on the street and shared a half-hug that was devoid of any real warmth. She walked down the street and he watched her, waiting for her to turn around and give him one last smile and wave, but she never did. She slipped around the corner, out of view, and no doubt, back out of his life. For how long this time? A year? Two? A decade? He wasn't quite sure.

He stood there for a moment. Looking around, wondering if he even has the motivation to go back to work or if he should call his receptionist to clear his schedule. He knew he was being ridiculous. He still does not want children, and as long as Monica knows that, she won't want him. And he had come to peace with that. And yet, here he was, his chest swelling as if his heart was ready to explode. He was lingering in the phantom her scent that had already disappeared from the air around him. He still loved her. It made no sense, and he should be mature enough to get past this infatuation, but he could not. He still loved her.

Richard chuckled to himself at how ridiculous he imagined he would look if anyone knew his inner thoughts. Fifty-one, soon to be fifty-two, pining for a girl over twenty-years younger than him. A girl that he has known almost all her life. How can he be in love with a girl he and his ex-wife once bought a doll for? Probably because she wasn't a girl anymore. No. She was now a woman. An amazing woman. He hoped Chandler knew how lucky he was.

* * *

When Monica turned the corner, leaving Richard behind, she could not help but smile and giggle to herself. When she first saw him, she had a moment where she was afraid to talk to him. She hadn't seen him since their last night together at his apartment. One last game of racquetball. Then, early in the morning, before he woke up, she slipped out of his bed and out of his life. She purged him from her thoughts after that. If she dwelled on who he was or what she was doing, she might have lost her nerve that day. She already tore herself apart the first time they broke-up, could she really survive it a second time?

Yet she did. It wasn't easy, but she did. And Richard had stopped being a fixture in her mind. If Rachel hadn't had her eye infection earlier in the week, Monica may have never thought of him again. He would still be locked away in some dark corner of her mind. Keeping her safe from her memories of him.

Even then, just the mention of his name from her best friend no longer sent agonizing pangs through her heart like it used to. It didn't flood her mind with doubt over whether she had done the right thing when she ended their relationship. It didn't flash images of the time they were together, like a distorted, torturous home movie. She didn't even remember that Rachel had said his name to her until the moment he was standing in front of her this afternoon.

She remembered every detail of that moment. It now dominated all other interactions with him in her mind. When he called her name and she looked up at him, she caught her breath. She tried to compose herself, prepared for some, if not all, of those old feelings to resurface, and when he smiled that incredibly sexy smile at her, there was nothing. She felt nothing. She might as well have been having lunch with an uncle or an old culinary school professor.

The even stranger part, she did not even have strong feelings about not have strong feelings for him. It was practically a non-event. There was no rush of pride that she would have assumed she would have felt for facing down such a dominating figure from her romantic past and finally being completely over him. There was no parade to mark the occasion. No band played him off stage. There was barely a whimper. It was nothing. She didn't even feel like pumping her fist in victory.

She had to take a moment and search her feelings to figure out when was the last time she even entertained a romantic thought about Richard. He dominated her every thought during the first few months following their immediate break-up. Then, he lingered with her for a few weeks after they tried to be "just friends". There were also a few days after she had broken it off with Pete that she thought of him. Of course, she couldn't keep him from her mind during that regrettable and ridiculous Timothy Burke experiment. There was even a fleeting moment right before she left for London.

London. That was it. She has not thought about him since London. Not in the way she used to. Not in the way that would force her to bury him deep down beneath some other memory in her subconscious. Hidden from her thoughts and dreams. Since London, there was no effort to exorcise him from her mind. Two plus years of him creeping up and invading her thoughts, ended a year ago. Ended in London. Ended with Chandler.

Suddenly, it became so obvious to her. Or course, she didn't think about Richard at all over the course of the last year. Of course, she felt nothing for him today as they had lunch. Why would she? She does not have any love for him anymore. All of her love is now for that goofy, ridiculous, annoying, sweet, wonderful man that she fell into bed with almost one year ago today.

And then, as quickly as Richard had appeared before her on the street this afternoon, he was gone. Gone from her life, gone from her mind, gone from her hear. All she could think about now was one year. One wonderful, surprising, amazing year with Chandler. She could not wait to get home, give him his gift, and start their celebration. She could not help but smile in the knowledge that this was going to be the best anniversary ever.

* * *

Chandler stood over his duffel bag that was resting on his bed. He was holding two gift wrapped boxes in his hands. One, a fairly nice if non-descript necklace. "Very versatile" was what the saleswoman called it when she showed it to him. Something Monica could wear casually or when she wanted to dress up. Another piece of jewelry to add to her collection. The other, his pièce de résistance, a Brother P-Touch, state of the art, top of the line, label maker. The Cadillac of label makers. A ridiculously expensive label maker. If this were any other woman, he would probably get dumped the moment she opened it up and saw it. But this isn't any other woman. This is Monica. She will probably throw the necklace over her shoulder and forget it ever existed once she sees this thing. He will no doubt be rewarded with "the good loving" tonight. This P-Touch label maker was a good brother indeed.

Monica. The only woman, no; the only person who could get sexually aroused by a piece of organizational office equipment. One year. He has been asking himself the same two questions all week. How the hell did he manage to keep her around for an entire year? Why did it take so long for him to figure out how amazing she was?

There were days throughout this entire relationship where he actually berated himself for wasting so many years simply being her friend. How was he so blind? How could it have been that he wasn't knocking down her door every day for the last eight years, begging her to go out with him. How could he have watched the parade of stupid men who walked in and out of her life and not grabbed them by their collar and shook them until their eyes rolled back in their heads and they realized that they were walking away from the most amazing woman in the world.

He was glad he never did that. If he had, he may have actually convinced one of those idiots to stick around and he never would have found her. Right there, under his nose the entire time. He had no idea that it could be this good. That love and commitment and being in a relationship could be this good. She's the best thing that has ever happened to him.

He started to stuff the two boxes deep into the sides of his bag, between folded shirts and pants, when he stopped himself and smirked. "Oh no. I'm not falling for that one. She is going to come over here and repack my bag." He took the two boxes and stuck them in his hamper with a plan to retrieve them in the morning. He knew she would not even attempt to go through his dirty clothes between now and then. Satisfied with himself, he zipped the bag up and prepared himself to walk across the hall and have a late supper with Monica. He smiled to himself. He knew this was going to be the best anniversary ever.


	13. Happy Anniversary

**Happy Anniversary**

Monica shook her head, took the keycard that she had been carrying ever since she and Chandler had checked in to the hotel, and shoved it into his chest. He winced a bit in pain at the force that her hand had collided into him with, although, if he were being honest, it was more a reaction to what was happening. "I hope you and Joey have a wonderful weekend together." Every word dripping from her mouth with dismissive sarcasm. She then turned away from him and stormed off. "C'mon Phoebe! Let's go to our room!"

Phoebe looked back and forth between Chandler and Joey and shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I guess she's staying with me." She followed Monica demurely and gave a quick wave goodbye to Joey.

Joey smiled bashfully and then turned to Chandler. "So, uh, roomies! That should be fun. Right?"

Chandler rolled his eyes and then raised an aggravated eyebrow at him. "I'll catch you later Spartacus." He turned towards the opposite direction that Monica had left in, and made his way to the elevator bank that was on the far side of the casino.

* * *

By the time he arrived at his room, Chandler was no longer angry at Monica for her secret lunch with Richard. He always found it difficult to stay mad at her. Normally, when they did have a fight, he would come around to her way of thinking, or they would work out some sort of compromise, and then they would enjoy a toe-curling round of make-up sex.

As a matter of fact, now that he is thinking about it, this should be their room, not his room that Joey was going to crash in. She should be here right now, with her skirt hiked up to her waist and her shirt already discarded to the floor. His pulse should be racing, his pupils should be dilated, and he should be preparing himself for an evening of indescribable ecstasy. Instead, he was settling into a mix of grief and dread. Grief because he was pretty sure this relationship was over, and dread because he knew why.

This was Richard after all. Her one true love. In all his mustached glory. Of course, he would come back into the picture now. That is the kind of luck Chandler has when it comes to love. Everything was going so well and Chandler was actually, for the first time, seriously thinking about the future. Their future. So, naturally. it made sense that Richard would reappear just as Chandler felt like he was finally figuring out exactly what commitment and being in a relationship was all about. And, of course, he knew that if Richard came around looking for Monica, she would be done with Chandler without really a second thought. Could he blame her? Hell, even he would choose Richard over him.

Why else would she have hidden it from him unless she was trying to figure out how to let him down easy. She was probably going to wait until they came back to New York, give him a few days to bask in the glow of their amazing one-year anniversary celebration, have a few more secret dates with that mustachioed bastard, and then let Chandler know she was running away with him to live wherever it was old eye doctors lived.

Why wouldn't she choose Richard over him? Why is he so surprised at this turn of events? He should be used to this by now. The women of his life leaving him for someone else. When will he learn that he doesn't get to have the happy ending? How many more times does this have to happen to him before he realizes he should just pack up shop and prepare himself to follow in Heckles footsteps. Even that lonely hermit probably had some horror stories from his past. A string of terrible romantic disasters that led him to decide to simply give up and spend the rest of his days surrounding himself with junk. Well, now Chandler had three of those.

He just never thought Monica would be one of those stories. He never thought she would do this to him. She was supposed to be different. She was supposed to be special. Instead, she is probably back in Phoebe's room, dialing up her new boyfriend right now. Letting him know that their plans to be together were working out sooner than she expected. They were probably professing their love for each other right now. The big lip-haired jerk.

How is he supposed to move on from this? How he feels for Monica is nothing like he has ever known before. This is not a few days lying around in sweatpants, go to a strip club and get over her kind of woman. This is a move across town, drink your face off and never go outside again because you will never get over her kind of woman.

He kicked off his shoes and tossed them across the room, ducking his head into his shoulder when he realized how loud of a noise he made. He let out a frustrated groan and then he crashed backwards onto the bed, rubbing his eyes so hard with the palms of his hands that he started to see stars.

Maybe Monica will come back. Maybe she will look for him tonight. Maybe she will tell him it was all a big mistake. He stood up from the bed and began to rub his hands together. Sure, he could try to believe that. She was probably talking it over with Phoebe right now and realizing just how big of a mistake she was making and started to race over to his room to tell him. He jumped from heel to heel and watched the door intently. Any minute now and she would be coming right through that door. Bursting into the room, grabbing him tightly and ferociously making love to him.

He looked at the clock on the bedside table. He would stand here, looking at the door for one more minute. If she doesn't come back in one minute than she is obviously never coming back. He chuckled to himself as he thought about that. One minute was not enough time. Five minutes. Five more minutes and if she did not come knocking on that door, then it was probably over. Although, as he thought about it some more, he realized that five minutes was not long enough to walk all the way across the casino and get to his floor. Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes was his final offer. If she was not here in thirty minutes, then he would know for sure that she was not coming.

He stood there, in-between the two double beds, waiting, watching the door, and realized how this was some crazy, distorted, mirror universe version of the events from one-year ago today. Even the door is on the opposite side of the room. One year ago, she came knocking on his door and changed his life. She saved his life, and he did not even know it needed saving.

_He felt pretty good about himself as he was getting ready to go to bed. He even thought to get a little exercise before he went to sleep, but then, after one push-up, he realized that was a stupid idea. Sure, it was early to be thinking about calling it a night, but he was also still a bit jetlagged. Although jetlag was not enough to dampen his mood. Hell, even the knowledge that Joey seemed to get his hooks into the only bridesmaid, who also appeared to be the only available single woman who was going to be at the wedding, did not upset him. He had no intention of going through the process of kidding himself into thinking he would have had a shot with her if Joey was not around. Chandler, through years of experience dealing with women, has come to understand, that nobody really wanted him. Not in the way that they wanted guys like Joey. And at least for one night, he was okay with not being wanted. _

_He was too preoccupied with this prideful and peaceful sense of accomplishment that he had been basking in for the last thirty-minutes. It took until now for him to realize, it was because he was there for his friend. Because he was there for Monica. She needed someone, and in what felt like a rarity, he rose to the occasion. He made her laugh, even though she did not want to laugh. He kept her company, and felt as though his promises of a bright future ahead for her were actually making her feel better. He also made sure, with her insistence, that she had a few more drinks in which to drown her sorrows, but he also ensured she did not imbibe too much that she would be feeling ill the next morning. Most importantly, he made sure she got back to her room safely. She even gave him a small kiss on the cheek as a thank you for his efforts. _

_He knew that the reason it felt so good to be there for her was that it felt like old times. Before Rachel and Joey, when it was just the two of them and they only had each other to rely on as they tried to navigate their way through the big city. They propped each other up when they were down, just like what he did tonight. He knew that they would always be close, no matter who else came into their lives, but back then, when it was just the two of them, they were the best of friends. It felt nice to have that little piece of the past back. _

_Then, there was a knock on the door and she stood there, still miserable, and had obviously found herself a refill for her drink. She looked pensive and angry and defeated. It made him sad. How could this amazing person not see in herself when it was so clear to him? How could she feel so down about who she was? How could he see all of these amazing things about her, yet she was so blind to them? She was so much better than anyone else he knew. She was certainly better than him. How could she think so little of herself? What possible chance could an actual mess like him have when a fantastic person like her couldn't find what she wanted. She was smart, kind, funny, caring, and…she was beautiful. She was the most beautiful woman he has ever known. And then he realized he should tell her that._

"_You were the most beautiful woman in the room tonight."_

_If he were being honest, his heart almost broke when she looked back at him, disbelief riddled across her face. It was as if no one had ever told her anything like that before. How could she doubt what he knew as a universal truth? She was beautiful, both inside and out._

"_Are you kidding me? You're the most beautiful woman in most rooms."_

_And in a flash, she was on him. He did not even have a second to think about what was happening, he just responded, as if on instinct. Something happened to him in that first kiss. It felt as if he was experiencing the truest moment of his life. As if everything he ever knew about anything up until right then was a mirage. He felt reborn when her lips crashed into his. As she moaned into his mouth, all he wanted to do was pick her up and take her over to the bed and let his body take over for the rest of the night. But this was Monica. And he had to make sure she was sure, because women never want him like this. _

_But, in that moment, she did want him. And she wanted him some more later that night. And even more after that. And then she wanted him when they got back to New York. And then a week later, she still wanted him. Then a month later. Then three months later. She still wanted him even when he acted like an idiot, or some entitled brat or a jealous fool. __Then, before he really knew what was happening, she was wrapping her arms around him, telling him that she loved him, in front of everyone, and he realized that he never knew true happiness until that moment. And over this last year, she showed him that she wanted him in a way that no other woman had ever wanted him. And he was starting to entertain the idea, that this was going to last forever._

He looked at the clock again; thirty-minutes had passed. She has not knocked on his door yet. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the door and waited. He waited for another knock, just like a year ago. He was waiting on a second miracle where she would choose him over Richard. He looked at the clock again; he could give her more time. He had to give her more time. So he sat and he stared and he waited to find out if she still wanted him.


	14. This Trip Includes Me

**This Trip Includes Me!**

Phoebe does not really like the idea of taking responsibility for her actions. She prefers to believe that things just sort of happen, regardless of how we conduct ourselves. That there are events and occurrences that we simply cannot control. Try as we might, we cannot bend the universe to our will. We all dance across the lightning of the synchronicity highway. That the electrical charges of chance connect us all. That the universe will provide you with what you need exactly when you need it.

It was something she had learned to believe while living on the streets. It was during those years where she realized that the world does not follow any rules. There are no absolutes. Sure, there is a guiding hand of spiritual providence that helps with serendipity, but there is also chaos. There is fortune and hazard and we can rarely dictate which one we receive or when we receive it. It is why, when she lived a life of begging, borrowing, and sometimes stealing; she knew it was all going to work out. Her karma would correct itself.

As Phoebe saw it, the problem with conventional thinking about how the world works, and the problem with the people who believe in that nonsense, is that they can never see the unconventional world that they are actually living in. Depriving themselves of all the fun and adventure. They are all too busy walking on the sidewalks of life, feeling safe and secure in the rules, while she was dancing in the street. On the surface, the two worlds looked the same, but it seems that only she knew that at any moment, you could get hit by a car.

Her life never followed convention. Dead mother. Absentee father. Dead Grandmother. Absentee birth mother. Eccentric half-brother. Cruel twin sister. Incarcerated step-father. If Phoebe had bowed down to the almighty will of convention and followed the rules that everyone seemed to believe governed us all, would she be the woman she was today? Shouldn't she be some statistic by now?

Convention and rules and taking responsibility never would have given her the riches that life bestows upon her. She is gifted with the ability to see beauty where other people saw trash. She can find music and creation in everything from being stuck in a supply closet to sticky shoes. She had found a grandmother who she loved while she was alive. A grandmother who took her in, leaving her a pretty amazing apartment to live in after she died. While in her search for her father, she discovered she had a half-brother, and ended up giving him a family, which in turn, became her family. None of this happened to her because she plays by the rules.

Would she have made the friends she has if she lived a conventional life? These five people she relies on the most. She wishes she could convince everyone she knows to live like her. Living life her way allowed her to find these friends who have been with her through so many changes in her life. They support her, take care of her, and even though they may not always understand her, they accept and love her. Although, they really have no choice. She is Phoebe. They would be crazy not to love her.

If there is any problem with her friends, it is that they sometimes tether her to their world, and then she would find herself emulating them. And while there are benefits to that life, there are also many negative aspects. One of those being what she is watching Monica go through right now. Phoebe cannot help but look at her and feel sorry for her as she slumps over her seat, sipping at her drink, and feeling completely miserable.

And just watching Monica mope away another day, creates another problem that comes with being so close to these five people for so long, who all live their conventional lives. It is on occasions such as this, she feels the teensiest, tiniest pull of responsibility for her friend's dour, sullen mood.

Phoebe knows though, if you really think about it, it is Monica's own fault that she has ruined half of her anniversary weekend getaway. Her rules told her that she should hide her secret lunch with Richard from Chandler. Although Phoebe also knows that sure, maybe her blurting it out on the plane was not very helpful. Better yet, she could blame Chandler. All the rules he had meant that he has to be jealous and insecure. He has to be petty, and storm off. It's not Phoebe's fault Richard is such a sore subject for them.

Yet, even with all their faults, they are her friends. She loves them and she wants them to be happy. And because of how she feels about them, now she is thinking, what if she didn't switch seats with that nice man before the flight took off so she could sit next to Monica and Chandler. Maybe then none of this would have happened. Although, if Richard never bumped into Monica in the first place, then they would not have gone to lunch and then Phoebe would not have had to deal with keeping their lunch a secret. So, if you really think about it. This is not Phoebe's fault at all. It is Richard's fault. And, that works out great because he is not here in Vegas to defend himself. Unless he is undercover. Phoebe was pretty certain she saw a few suspicious looking mustaches in the airport when they landed.

So, even though Phoebe has now concluded that she is in no way responsible for Monica and Chandler fighting and missing out on an entire day of their trip together, she will have to help them. It is the least she could do. It seems so easy to fix too. Maybe they cannot see it, because they cling to the rules that are keeping them apart. They love each other, they make each other happy. If they could just live in the moment and allow that invisible hand of fate to guide them, they would be together right now.

If they just did things her way, then Monica would not have spent the night in Phoebe's room, going from barely talking to speaking a mile-a-minute. Tossing in her sleep or lying awake, grumbling to herself in the middle of the night. Monica would not have been filled with worry and doubt tonight or have to deal with being depressed right now. It would also mean that Chandler would not have been hiding in the other room all night. Probably feeling terrible himself.

And, think of the problems it is causing Phoebe. She missed out on the breakfast buffet that they all would have shared this morning. And, lets face it, because of them, she can't even hang out with Joey. Her one kindred spirit in the group who enjoys the pleasures of the moment just as much as she does. Monica and Chandler's conventional lives were sucking the joy right out of her.

It was a mess. A mess made by their weird little world with all of its complexities that informs them of how they are supposed to feel. When they do not feel that way at all. They don't want to be apart, yet they spent the entire night apart. Monica does not want to be sitting here, stubbornly basking in a sad kind of indignation. Chandler does not want to be locked up in his room, away from all the lights and magic down here on the casino floor. Why hurt themselves and each other all because that is what living conventionally tells them they have to do.

It is telling them both that they need to be spiteful, angry, jealous, and duplicitous. It tells them that they need to hold tight the reigns of life and ensure they will never feel like this again, when of course they will. Phoebe knows from her own experience, that no matter how hard you try not to feel all those terrible uncomfortable feelings, they will always figure out how to creep into your spirit.

So, why let it stop you from doing what you want? Saying what you want? Being who you want? That is what Monica and Chandler should be doing right now instead of waiting and moaning and dealing with all this nonsense that their way of living tells them to. Hoping for some resolution that won't come unless one of them get's off their ass. They should do what she would do. If you want to be with someone, then be with them. If you don't want to fight, then don't fight. Everything else is just a waste of time.

So, reluctantly, Phoebe realizes that she will have to fix this mess and take an action, even though that is exactly what living life by her rules tells her not to do. And really this is not even her fault, so it shouldn't be her responsibility. But these two knuckleheads need a straightforward push in the right direction. And she loves them both too much not to do that. She just hopes it doesn't mess with her karma at the slot machines later tonight.


	15. The Love of Your Life

**The Love of Your Life**

Chandler Bing knew he was probably making a huge mistake. He knew that he was making an impressively stupid miscalculation where he was risking it all and did not even know the odds of winning. He was taking a chance, one that could cost him everything he holds dear. Everything that means anything to him. His entire world was on the line. He was gambling with his relationship. He was making a bet that could cost him Monica forever.

At least he was in the right place for it.

Las Vegas.

Where many a poor fool before him had put everything on the line for a chance at the big jackpot. The Vegas strip was littered with lost souls who squandered the last of their rent money, wagered with their children's college fund, and doubled-down with borrowed cash from dangerous, shady characters, only to have lost it all. Gambling it all away just for a chance at the life-changing bet that they had prayed would pay off. Chandler looked down at his empty duffel bag one more time and he knew in this moment, that he was just like those reckless, desperate, unthinking gamblers. The ones who slapped down the last few dollars that they had to their name. Even though he knew, what he already had was valuable; Chandler was ready to risk it all for something even bigger.

He could have easily ensured that he walked out of the casino and broke even, which most people would consider a successful weekend in Las Vegas. If what Phoebe said to him earlier in his room was true, and that Monica was looking for him to tell him that she loved him and not Richard, he could leave tomorrow in the same exact place he arrived, with his relationship slightly bruised but completely intact. All he had to do was walk over to Monica, who he had found playing at the craps table, and make-up with her. They would have talked, shared a quick apology, and been right back where they were before this whole stupid fight of theirs had even started.

Yet, here he was, in Las Vegas, and, to any true gambler, breaking even would always feel like losing. He knew he needed more than simply a return back to the status quo of their relationship. He needed more than a quick kiss and a superficial conversation about their fight. This was too important. She was too important. His need to know that she felt the same way he did was too important. He needed to know that this she saw this as more that just two people who happened to sleep together one night. He needed to know that she was not waiting for something better to come along. He needed to know that this relationship was ready to enter into the "forever" conversation. He needed to gamble. He needed to let what he had ride and take the chance to win it all.

Chandler probably would have come downstairs and made-up with Monica on the casino floor after speaking with Phoebe. He might have never entertained this big, stupid, ill-advised gesture to try to force her to make that first move towards reconciliation. To get her to prove that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Yet, when he saw Monica sharing high fives and hugging strangers at the craps table in-between dice rolls, he did not see a woman who was torn up about missing her anniversary with her boyfriend. He didn't see a woman who was desperately trying to find him. Instead, he found a woman who looked like he was the last thing on her mind. When he saw her, seemingly unaffected by their night apart, he realized, he needed more than just to make sure they were okay and everything was back to normal.

Last night, not being with her, was torture for him. He could not sleep knowing that they were fighting. He could not get comfortable in a bed that she was not also sleeping in. He hated the morning without being able to see her face. In those late hours of the night, he realized, that he just could not live without her. They had to be more than just a couple who went out for a year. More than just some inconsequential boyfriend and girlfriend, like so many before them. He needed to know this relationship was as important to her as it was to him. That this was the most important relationship of her life. Just like it was for him.

He was so sure she felt that way too, and yet, there she was, having the time of her life without him, pumping her fist and making friends. It was in that moment, for the first time in almost a year, that he was starting to have his doubts about the two of them. Phoebe may have told him that Monica was looking for him, but she was never the most reliable member of their group. She could have made a mistake. She could have gotten it wrong. He could not just walk over there and act like nothing happened and everything was back to normal. He had to know.

So, instead of approaching her, he walked away, back to his room in hopes that he would think of something he could do to make her see how important this was, how hurt he was. How to find out if she even really cared about their relationship at all.

He made his way back to his room and, once inside, sat down on the edge of the bed. He was still at a loss of what to do and unsure what his next move should be. He looked around the room. Should he call the front desk? Have them page her and make some grand gesture in front of the entire casino at some customer service booth? As grand gestures go, another confession of love in front of a roomful of people could be nice, like in the movies. Although, people in a Las Vegas casino, probably would not care about what they were doing or even take the time to listen to them. What would he even say? "I _love _love you. Do you _love_ love me?" No, he had to make her tell him on her own, and a grand gesture would only sweep her up in false emotions as she got caught up in the moment. He had to know that she felt the same way he did without being influenced by some sweet speech or romantic expression of his love.

Then, out of nowhere, he was struck by an epiphany. He suddenly knew what he had to do. He tossed his bag on the bed and started to pull out some of his clothes from the dresser drawers. He almost had to laugh at the idea that he would use one of her favorite activities against her. He would pack. Pack up and leave, saying goodbye to her on his way out the door. And, if she comes after him, then he will know. And if she doesn't, he will go home and begin the mourning process.

As he fumbled with a pair of sweater vests, dropping them on the bed clumsily, he moved to open the drawer to the bedside table for his flight paperwork. Once it was opened, he froze in his tracks. He reached in and pulled out the two gift wrapped boxes he tossed in there earlier this morning. The anniversary gifts he had left behind. He had completely forgotten that he had Ross retrieve them from his bedroom and bring them with him when he arrived earlier today. He shook his head; even as upset as he was about their fight last night, he still wanted to get her gifts here for their anniversary. He didn't want her to wait until they got back to New York.

He looked back at his empty bag and the mess of clothes on his bed and thought to himself, _"Who am I kidding."_ He realized; he isn't going anywhere. He doesn't even like to pack. _"Maybe I don't have to pack." _He started to rationalize this new, rash impulse that he was feeling. It took him a few seconds to work it out; she needs to think he is going to leave, so, he does not actually have to go anywhere. For this to work, he is going to have to indulge in that other dangerous Las Vegas tradition. He is going to have to bluff.

Chandler knew he had to sell it if this plan was going to work. Too much emotion, and she would suspect something was going on. Not enough, and she wouldn't buy that he was actually going home. He had to hit just the right tone with just the right words.

He took his empty bag with him from the room and made his way back to the elevator. While he waited, he turned around and practiced in the mirror hanging on the wall in the hallway. He tried different inflections in his voice and attempted a wide assortment of hand gestures.

"See ya around, Geller!"

"Guess this is over."

"I'm out of here. Have fun with Richard!"

"I had fun while it lasted!"

"Ain't no thing but a chicken wing!"

The elevator door opened and he winced a bit at his own pathetic display. He knew, that for this to work, he was going to have to drop the act, and be sincere.

* * *

Monica could not believe the roll she was on. She had no idea how she was winning, or even why, but every time she let the dice fly from her hands and once they finished their dance on the felt, everyone at the table erupted in cheers. She felt so alive and invigorated. She felt unstoppable. She could not lose.

Standing here at the craps table, winning roll after roll at a game she hardly understood, affirmed her belief that everything with Chandler was going to work out. That they were going to be okay. Fortune was on their side. The magic of Las Vegas was on their side. How could she be on such an improbable winning streak and have it turn out any other way?

She had already turned the five-dollar chip she found on the floor into three-hundred dollars in what felt like just a few minutes. The dealer just kept pushing more and more chips her way. It was obviously a clear sign that their relationship was going to survive this rough patch. It was the kind of kismet you only see in the movies.

As she felt the adrenaline that pumped through her veins, she just knew that it didn't matter what she did right now, Las Vegas would not let her lose. Maybe she would never lose at anything ever again. It struck her, as she was rattling the dice in her hand before throwing them down on the table once more, that this was a perfect metaphor for her relationship with Chandler. She was feeling terrible about her fight with him, and then she got lucky She found a chip when she was not even looking for it, the one that started her on this winning streak. it was the same with Chandler. Feeling miserable at Ross' wedding and then finding him in London, when she was not looking for love, and how their relationship kept growing and growing, just like her pile of chips. No, she would not lose. Not in craps, and not in love.

She had no idea how long she was at the table, there were no clocks to be found anywhere in the casino, and the rush of endorphins as a result of all this winning made it hard for her to tell how much time had passed. Twenty minutes? A half hour? Two hours? She had no clue. She couldn't even keep track of time to figure out when she should stop.

She knew she had to find Chandler, they had to make-up. But she was winning, surely, he of all people would understand why she couldn't pry herself away from the table. In fact, he was the only other person in the world who would understand. It's why they are so perfect for each other. He knows she could never walk away from a winning streak like this.

She did think about leaving the table earlier to find him. She told herself, after ten rolls of the dice, she would quit. Yet, those ten rolls came and went and she kept winning. She even mentioned, innocently enough, that she had to leave the table soon to her fellow gamblers, but one of them looked at her as if he was going to have a heart attack. He told her that she could not leave during a streak like this. That it was bad luck and it would follow her around Las Vegas for the rest of her trip, and probably hitch a ride with her back home.

Monica was not the superstitious type, but she did believe in jinxes. What if this guy was correct? What if Las Vegas did run on a different wavelength where the results at the table can be mirrored in your life outside the casino. Could she really take that chance and jeopardize her reconciliation with Chandler? No, it was obvious that she had to keep rolling until she finally lost and the table let her go. Perhaps, the future of her relationship depended on it. Las Vegas demanded she follow its rules, and everyone knows how important following the rules are to Monica Geller. Especially Chandler.

So, she rolled the dice again, and again the crowd around her cheered, and again some stranger offered her a high five. The superstitious rituals piling on as the streak continued. She even had to pump her fist in the same exact way every time she threw the dice, or else, as some of her fellow gamblers told her, any deviation could result in bad luck, and bad luck could spread to every corner of her life. So, she rationalized that in a way, she was rolling these dice for the most important thing in her life, her relationship with Chandler. She could not lose. They would not lose. This winning streak was definitely a sign that the magic of Las Vegas would not let them down.


	16. As Much As I Love You

**As Much As I Love You**

"I know he's the love of your life."

"Not anymore."

Chandler had a hard time processing exactly how those two little words made him feel. It was as if he saw the sun for the first time, and it was warm and soothing. Inviting him to always feel its radiance. Promising him that he will never be cold again. Those two ubiquitous words changed his life in this very moment; they let him know, that if Richard was no longer the love of her life, it could only mean that he was. Him. Chandler Bing. Monica truly loved him. If he ever had a doubt about that before, it burned up the instant that she shined this new light upon him. He knew, from this moment on, he would never question her love for him again. No matter what they fought about, no matter what shadows tried to creep in and block the glow he now bathed in; he would never doubt her love for him again. A rush of giddy excitement flushed through him. He could barely hold back a smile. It was as if he heard her tell him "I love you" for the first time all over again.

"Really?"

Monica could not believe how just those two little words she spoke changed his entire demeanor. His sullen, self-conscious expression gave way to one of child-like glee. It was as if she told him a secret; revealing some universal truth that told him something about himself, that he did not know. Something that made all that worry, doubt and fear fade from his face. She loved him and no one else. How could he not already know that? Hasn't she been clear enough about how important he is to her? Has she neglected to tell him in some way? He was the only man for her. The only one who loved her exactly how she needed to be loved. How could he not know that?

"Really."

Monica decided to seal the moment with a kiss. She wanted to punctuate this fresh clarity he now seemed to have about them with a public display of their intimacy. She needed them to put their stamp on it. It was a magical moment. It was Las Vegas magic. She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes as she pulled herself into him, placing a slow, sweet kiss on his lips. She pulled back and let her hands run gently from the back of his head to his shoulders.

As Monica pulled back from her kiss, Chandler held a serious expression before giving way to a small, gentle smile. He wanted to remember this moment forever, as she narrowed her eyes and let a satisfied smile spread across her lips. This was it for him. She was it for him. He never wanted to forget how he felt in this moment.

Monica saw a flash of thoughtfulness on his face as she opened her eyes, but then he relaxed his expression into an easy smile. She let the palms of her hands rub his chest and then danced her fingers along his shoulder as she gave him a reassuring squeeze. Monica knew that, even though Vegas did not will them together, and that this moment did not signify that they belonged to each other in some cosmic way, it did prove they were at their best with each other. That the lucky streak she had on the table was not about Vegas at all, it was about the two of them. The magic belonged to them, not to this city. That as long as they continued to bet on each other, they would always come out on top.

"Let's forget about this going home stuff and celebrate our anniversary." Chandler winced a bit as she reached for his bag and picked it up from the floor. "Okay, this is empty."

He thought for a moment about coming up with some excuse, some funny mix of words that she would no doubt find tiresome. However, he ignored that impulse. This was not the time yet for witticism. He did not want to mar this with some lame, thin falsehood that she would no doubt see through. He owed her the truth. "Yeah, I wanted to make a dramatic scene, but I hate packing."

Monica let out a laugh and nodded. Under normal circumstances she would have probably treated him to a stern glare as punishment for his ruse, but she was too happy to have their fight finally behind them and to have him back. To bask in what felt like some new level of understanding about what they were. This was a sign. A sign that told her that they were in it for the long haul. She thought that she knew that about them already, but here, in this moment, it became so much clearer. London was where they started, New York was where they fell in love, but Las Vegas will always be where they knew that they hit the jackpot with each other. Even if they did not want to say it aloud for fear of jinxing their good fortune.

Chandler grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards him as he allowed a sly smile to spread across his lips. "Hey, maybe we can bring my bag back upstairs to our room, and, you know, make this anniversary official." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

Monica turned and smiled back at him. "Okay! Oh, wait. Isn't Joey staying in our room now?"

"Oh. Right." Chandler looked around the casino for a moment. "Maybe we can find him and have him pack up and leave."

"Hmm. I don't know. I mean, he probably already got the entire room smelling all like Joey." Monica bit her lower lip as she looked down, trying to figure out where they could go.

Chandler clapped his hands together. "You know what? Let's just get another room." He knew it was impulsive to book yet another room, but he did not care. This was not going to be like London, where they wasted hours trying to find their own private spot to enjoy each other.

Monica was excited about the prospect of having their own, freshly cleaned room in which to celebrate their anniversary properly. She hesitated for a moment to make sure he was certain that he wanted to do this. "Really?"

"Yeah. Let's get a nice room. Better than the one we already have. It will be like an anniversary do-over. You know you want to celebrate in a brand-new, professionally cleaned room." Monica started to bounce in place on her feet. Not only was a clean room exciting, but the fact that he knew it would make her happy sent waves of adrenaline through her body. Chandler put his hand on her shoulder as if to steady her. "I'll get my stuff, and you get your things from Phoebe's room. I'll go to the front desk and book the room and you meet me at our old room."

"Okay!" Monica smiled widely and leaned into him again, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

* * *

Chandler heard a light knock on the door to his room as he was packing his clothes back into his bag. He rushed over and opened it quickly, letting Monica in; greeting her with a kiss. She hugged him but then looked over his shoulder and scrunched up her face. "Yeah, see. It has that Joey smell already. Did you let him eat in here?" Chandler shrugged and offered her a sheepish grin. She let her eyes scan the room and saw his open bag on the bed and twisted her face up. "Hey! Did you unpack? Because I didn't unpack. I was too upset to unpack."

Chandler looked down at his bag. "Uh, yeah but this was supposed to be our room. So, I knew that if we made up, we would probably come here." Monica narrowed her eyes for a moment as he held his breath. She finally relented and nodded her head in approval. Chandler smiled and resumed his packing. "I got us a real good room. It has a king-size bed and a great view!"

Monica rubbed her hands together and smiled. "Oh man. This is going to be the best anniversary do-over ever!"

* * *

Chandler unlocked the door with the keycard as they both stepped inside. "Wow!" Monica spun around. "This is so much better than those other two rooms. It even has a little kitchenette!"

"Uh, you know we aren't going to be cooking in here though, right?" Monica shrugged her shoulders and nodded as he tossed his bag on the floor and vaulted himself up onto the bed. "Look at this bed! I've never seen a bed this big!"

Monica began to slowly creep over towards him as she gently placed her bag down on a chair. "You did good Bing. This might call for a nice reward. Oh! I almost forgot!" Monica bent over and reached into the side pocket of her bag. "Look at this!" She pulled out a wad of twenty-dollar bills. "I cashed my chips in. I won three-hundred and fifty dollars! We should go out and have a nice dinner somewhere fancy to celebrate!"

Chandler nodded his head, clearly impressed by her haul. "Wow! That is good. Maybe we have to go downstairs again and see if you still have that hot streak."

Monica bent over seductively as she placed the money back inside the bag. She made sure to keep her back to him as she looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. "You don't know if I'm still hot?" Chandler became flustered for a moment, wondering how he could have possibly said the wrong thing and what he could do to fix it. He began to stammer and Monica smiled as she shook her head. "Chandler. Relax. I was just joking." She kicked off her shoes and climbed up onto the bed next to him, curling up into his side as she let her legs hang over his. She rubbed his chest and placed small kisses along his earlobe, catching it between her teeth gently after each slow kiss.

Chandler shot up suddenly and sprung out of bed, leaving Monica looking slightly perturbed. "Oh! Do-over!"

She pulled herself up on her elbows and watched him scramble off the bed. "What?"

"Do-over anniversary!" He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out two gift-wrapped boxes. He held them up triumphantly as he returned to the bed. "I got Ross to bring your presents!"

A playful smile spread across her lips as Monica sat up. "Oh wow! See! Its Vegas magic! It's a sign that this is going to be the best do-over anniversary ever!"

Chandler slid up next to her and dropped the boxes in front of her as he adopted a serious expression. "No, no. It's our ani-Vegas-ary!"

Monica blushed as she smiled up at him, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck to pull him into another kiss. "I love you."

"You want to open your presents?"

Monica clapped her hands together and rubbed then excitedly. "Okay!" He handed her the first box, and she tore the wrapping paper off haphazardly. She looked over at him and smiled as she recognized the name of the jeweler on the top of the box. She gently opened it and carefully lifted a thin, silver necklace that shone with small diamonds that were embedded throughout the chain. "Oh, it's so nice. I love it. I'm going to wear this to dinner tonight." She then let her eyes fall to the other box. "Is that for me too?"

Chandler chuckled at her false, demure tone. He could sense the childlike excitement she was actually feeling at having another gift to open. He lifted it up and handed it to her. "You know it is."

She let out a loud, excited squeal and snatched the box from his hand, ripping it open wildly. She froze in her motions and looked up at him in shock. "Is this what I think it is?" Chandler could not help but beam with pride as she began to study the box. "Is this the easy to use, one touch keypad, multiple fonts, twenty-seven user friendly template label maker?" She looked up at him again and Chandler shrugged his shoulders. "Oh my god! Look how white and clean it is!" She ripped the box open and took it out. She began to breath heavily and stared at him, her eyes became narrow slits as her passion started to override all of the other emotions she was feeling in that moment. "I can think of a few things I want to use this on right now!" She pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him; straddling him as she started to furiously unbutton his pants.

* * *

Chandler wrapped his arm around Monica and started to lead her back through the casino. "Well, Phoebe doesn't have a bad idea. We can go back to our room."

Monica spied the craps table she was playing at earlier in the day and bit on her thumbnail. She turned her face up to his. "You know, the other people who were at the table before said it was bad luck to leave a winning streak. Should we play to see if that good luck is still going? Make sure we don't jinx anything?"

Chandler nodded and steered her towards the table. "Sure, but let's not get too crazy with it."

"Oh, totally. I just want to see if we are still on a hot streak. I mean, first I started winning, then when I was rolling the dice, I could not lose!" She gently ran her finger along his chest. "And then we made up. I just think it could be a clear sign that everything is going to be okay."

"Okay, but we don't want to give all our winnings back to the casino."

Monica raised a discerning eyebrow up at him. "Our winnings?"

"I'm just saying, that's how they get you. The house always wins. If you want to leave a winner, we shouldn't get too crazy with what we are gambling with."

Monica exhaled sharply and rolled her eyes. "Stop worrying. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

* * *

"That could be a four or a five. It's your call."

Chandler looked up at her. This felt right. She was the one. He knew that. She would always be the one. All he wanted to do is spend the rest of his life making her smile that wonderful smile of hers. It was not even a hard call to make. He just had to look her in the eye and make sure she wanted this too. _"I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."_ It was right there. She was the one. He was marrying this woman tonight.

"It's a four."

Monica felt like she was going to melt into the floor. Was this really happening? Here, still wrapped up in the arms of Las Vegas and all of its magic. Somebody wanted to marry her. He wanted to marry her. She knew he was the man she was supposed to be with, that there would never be another. _"I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."_ She was not just parroting his own lovely sentiment. She meant it. And she knew, she would never love anyone else ever again in the way that she loved this man.

"I think so too."


	17. Sick of the Signs

**Sick of the Signs**

Monica was having trouble falling asleep. Her mind simply would not let her rest, as it instead opted to keep playing the events from earlier tonight over and over and over again. It was hard for her to believe that, just a couple of hours ago, she was inches away from getting married. That earlier this evening, as far as she knew, she was mere moments away from entering the chapel herself. Ready to commit to marrying the man who was now lying in bed next to her. For better or for worse. Thanks though, to Ross and Rachel, she did not go through with it. She was not sure if she should be grateful or annoyed at the two of them for that.

Truthfully, she knew that she had to acknowledge what was really keeping her awake the most. More than the shock of finding her brother and best friend getting hitched without warning and more than knowing that she herself was about to get married in the very same manner. What had been truly plaguing her mind, were not the events of tonight that led up to that rash, impulsive decision to marry Chandler or what they discovered in "A Little White Chapel" later that evening. What she cannot stop thinking about, is how relived she is that she and Chandler did not go through with it and what that meant for her relationship.

She felt like this almost as soon as she saw Ross and Rachel stumble out of the chapel. Slurring their words, barely able to stand, covered in ink and reeking of alcohol. After her initial shock at what was unfolding before her eyes wore off, the first thing she thought was, _"Thank God that is not me."_ It was like Vegas's own version of "A Christmas Carol", and they were the ghosts of terrible decisions future.

She was not sure what this now meant for her and Chandler. How do you walk back from agreeing to get married? How do you go back to being just boyfriend and girlfriend after committing to forever? Was it even possible to salvage a relationship after you tell the other person you do not want to marry them? Does not wanting to get married after committing to it mean that there is some flaw in their relationship? Could it be that all those swells of confidence and euphoria she had experienced this evening were just a Vegas mirage? All brought on by a gambling high and an over-oxygenated casino?

She knew that her trepidation about marriage had nothing to do with how she felt about Chandler. She did not love him any less right now than she did earlier tonight, while they were crouching down underneath the craps table in search of that wayward die. She was confident in her love for him; but, would he know that as well when she finally broke the news to him that she wants to call it off? That she was not ready to take such a big leap? His confidence can be so fragile at times, and they just got over a fight where it was obvious that he began to doubt her love for him. How can she make certain that does not happen again?

There were also practical reasons not to get married tomorrow in Las Vegas and maybe she should focus on those when she talks to him. Now that she has time to consider what they were going to do; her resistance could simply be explained away because she wants that dream wedding. Now, that she is sobering up from her endorphin rush that was the result of gambling, a magical do-over anniversary celebration and wonderful make-up sex; she realized that she would have regretted getting married in a stolen blue Caesar's Palace sweatshirt. That, while she loved Chandler and his desire to marry her, which felt so real last night and made her weak in the knees, she also knew that if they had actually gotten married, she would have grown to resent their decision to do it and worst of all, she would have grown to resent him.

She knew all of this as they left the chapel with Joey and Phoebe; standing in stunned silence in the wake of Ross and Rachel's drunken escapade. She knew this when they both decided to retire for the night, instead of search for the newlyweds and find out what could have happened to make them do such a crazy thing. She knew, when they finally returned to their room, and she nearly attacked him, knocking him down onto the bed and stripping their clothes off frantically in the hopes that a round or two of vigorous sex would take their minds off what they were about to do earlier tonight, and save the uncomfortable conversation that they needed to have until tomorrow morning.

Unfortunately, it did not work. She could not sleep and she could sense by his breathing that Chandler was still awake as well. She wondered what he might be thinking. Could he be planning their rescheduled nuptials for tomorrow morning? Maybe he assumed that after breakfast, they would take a taxi back over to the chapel and follow in Ross and Rachel's footsteps. Worse, what if he had enough time to weigh exactly what getting married meant and wanted to run as far away from it, and her, as he could possibly get? She knows him, and just as much as she has always wanted to be married and have children, he seemed to have wanted the exact opposite.

She had to remind herself though, that it was different now. He was different now. They both could feel it in the months leading up to this trip, and they both felt it yesterday, with their do-over anniversary, it was as clear to her as she was sure it was to him, that they were both in this for the long haul. They were the one for each other. They had moved into the sacred "forever" stage of their relationship.

Still, she knew that Chandler could be an enigma. He always tended to fold into himself during times of reflection. He could be somewhere deep in his own mind, hiding himself from how he really feels, or how he thinks he should feel. He was never any good at processing emotions in a healthy way. What if he needed help right now to navigate his thoughts? What if he needed her to help soothe his troubled mind?

"Chandler? Are you still awake?"

"Yeah."

"What, uh, what are you thinking about?"

Chandler was quiet for a long time and she dared not move or speak until he did, fearing the worst outcome if she pushed him too hard. "Well, uh, I was wondering; do you think we can start calling Richard 'Dick' from now on? I feel like that fits better."

Monica wanted to hit him, she wanted to throttle him unconscious for being so ridiculous in what felt like an important moment for them, but all she could do was laugh. She started laughing so hard that tears began to form at the corners of her eyes and her stomach muscles felt like they might tighten into a fist. She loved this man. No matter how awkward the conversation they would eventually have about whether or not to go through with getting married tomorrow would become, she loved him. She knew that was enough.

* * *

Chandler looked over at Monica. Her face was pensive and he could see, in every inch of her body, that it was coiled in anger and all he could think about was how he must have screwed up. This was Monica. Signs and marriage and magic was probably all she thought about, and now, he wondered if she felt that they were messing with destiny by ignoring all of that.

He knew there was still tension between them about this entire getting married fiasco and he could feel it intensify right after the plane leveled out after takeoff. It was as if a black cloud fell over them once the fasten seatbelt light went out and the flight attendant came around to offer them a soft drink and a snack. She was mad, and he had no doubt, it was about him.

He was fairly certain earlier today that she was satisfied with their decision to let fate decide once more if they should get married. She even said it herself that they were doing the right thing, despite Vegas trying it's best to steer them back towards "A Little White Chapel" for a quickie wedding. They both seemed to be on the same page, ignoring all the signs, and going home with their relationship intact.

They had been foolish, and gambled a bit too much of themselves, pushing everything they had gained last night during their wonderful do-over anniversary, towards the center of the table for one more bet. One ill-fated miscalculation that they should go for the grand prize. Tempt fate and show the world and each other that they were no longer afraid of forever. He knows now, that they are lucky to have found themselves breaking even, going home with the exact same dynamic to their relationship as they had when the left.

Yet, Monica still seemed upset, and he wondered if maybe he took some of the shine off of her dreams of marriage. If he somehow tainted her fantasy of what proposals and weddings are supposed to be. What if she had always held onto this image of the man she was going to marry, dropping down on one knee, surprising her and forcing her to catch her breath as she realized what was happening. What if he ruined that for her with his idiotic idea to get married in Las Vegas over something as trivial and random as a dice roll. What if he ruined proposals for her in some irrevocable way? Last night was his second time asking her to marry him, and both times were horrible mistakes that she had to help him fix. What woman would want that? Certainly not Monica Geller. She does not want false starts and stammering idiots mangling a proposal. She wants romance, and fate and magic when she gets engaged. There is no way she wants something as trivial as a dice roll to be her lasting memory of how it happened. The story she told all her friends and her family. He did not even have a ring this time. What kind of idiot thinks a woman wants to get engaged and married without a ring?

Monica probably has had this idea in her head of how she wanted the man she was going to marry to propose to her since she was a teenager, and now, he ruined that with two stupid, impulsive and very unromantic offers at marriage. He is lucky she came home with him at all. She must really love him to put up with this.

He looked over at her again while she seemed distracted by something and looked down at her bag. She did love him. He knew that. He was confident that, no matter how much he screws up, she will still love him. As angry and upset as she seems right now, she is here, sitting with him, going home with him, in love with him.

One day, when he is ready, he will propose to her, and he will do it right. She will be surprised and she will gasp in shock and cry because she will never see it coming and he will finally make up for all of these stupid things he has done to her and all the ways he ruined proposals and engagements and marriage. He knows he will.

He reached over and gently placed his hand on her arm. "Hey, how you doing."

She pulled her arm away abruptly and let out a terse. "Fine." As she began rifling through her purse again.

Chandler frowned a bit, knowing he had to find out what he did and why she was so upset. "Mon, I…"

Suddenly, she leaned into him, cutting him off. "I think that little brat stole my snack! I've checked under the seat and in my bag. It's gone. Look at him. Chomping away on my food!"

Chandler could not help but bury his face into his hands and shake his head. Trying to hide his amusement at her misplaced righteous anger. He loved this woman. No matter how awkward and tense they may feel right now about signs and impulsive nuptials, he loved her. He knew that would be enough.

* * *

Chandler pulled the door shut behind him and looked across the hall towards the entrance to his own apartment. They had made it. They were on the same page again and they broke even. They survived Las Vegas. He should be elated. He should be doing a dance right here in the hallway in celebration.

Yet, he is not elated. He is not dancing. He does not feel like a winner because, when you come home from Las Vegas, breaking even feels like losing. They needed more than to just break even. They needed something to show for all their efforts over this weekend. They needed to come out on top. They needed a win. They deserved a win. Breaking even would never be good enough for them. Because, ever since that night when he was staring at that errant die that they found on the floor, the one that told him he had hit the jackpot with Monica, he knew that as long as they bet on each other, they could never lose. No matter how many times they threw those dice in the air, as long as it was about their future together, it would always be a four.

Chandler turned around and quickly slipped back inside Monica's apartment, feeling only slightly apprehensive until she turned around to look at him over the couch. When he saw her face, he relaxed a bit. There was only one sign that he needed in order to know he was doing the right thing. The only sign that guided him through every bump and roadblock over this past year. It wasn't random priests or wayward bouquets or improbable dice rolls. It was her. She was his sign. The only sign he would ever need.

"You know, I was thinking. What if I, uh, unpack here?"


	18. No More J-Man and Channy's

**No More J-Man and Channy's**

Joey, standing in his kitchen, stares out into the living room of his apartment, which now seems very empty after he was told that Chandler was moving in with Monica. He takes a swig from the milk carton he is holding and allows a heavy sigh to escape from his lips. His eyes slowly run over every inch of the living room, only stopping when his gaze falls upon the two Barcaloungers. He tries to imagine just how different the apartment will look once Chandler moves out. It will never feel the same again. No more movie marathons. No more late-night pizza deliveries. No more impromptu games of foosball. No more stories about some hot girl one of them had seen that day. No more Joey and Chandler. He thinks about what that means for him going forward and what other changes, besides one less recliner in front of the television, the next few months are going to bring.

Joey does not like change that much. He does not like having to alter any of his own rituals or habits. He likes things the way they are. There is a sense of comfort he derives from the familiar day-to-day occurrences of his life that this new living arrangement is going to send into upheaval. Everything was perfect now. Why do Chandler and Monica want to mess all that up? Now Rachel has to move, and he is going to have to find a new roommate. What if no one likes the person who moves in? What if that person does not like all of his friends? What if he can never find a roommate and has to move out and find a cheaper apartment? What if he and Rachel have to live somewhere across town? Would the gang ever get to see each other as much as they do now? Joey shook his head as he let all the different possible outcomes play out in his head. The prospect of having to navigate through this brand-new world that was being thrust upon him does not make him happy.

For Joey, figuring out his new living arrangements in a post-Chandler world is not the worst of it. He knows the real reason he is feeling so down about all of this is that it means he has to finally come face-to-face with the realization that his relationship with his best friend is about to irrevocably change forever. It is no longer going to be Joey and Chandler. Now, moving forward, it would always be Chandler and Monica.

He always knew this day was coming. It was inevitable. These changes did not suddenly happen this morning after he was told that Chandler would be moving across the hall. The dynamic between him and his best friend was already changing. It practically started on the very same day he figured out that Chandler and Monica were sleeping together. That day, as he sat there on Monica's bed, averting his eyes to their kiss, a part of him already knew things were going to be different. While he was initially made to feel uncomfortable witnessing such a passionate display of affection between these two people he had thought of as part of his extended family, he also could not deny what was becoming clear to him in that moment. They both appeared to be happier than he had ever seen them before. He knew this thing between them was real. He knew it was going to be life changing. Even if he did not have the wherewithal to formulate those thoughts succinctly in that moment, looking back at that day now, he knows it to be true.

From that moment on, the changes to their lives came very quickly. Suddenly, it seemed that every time he came home late from date or after the rare occurrence of actually working an acting gig, Monica was there. Hiding in Chandler's room, giggling the night away and making noises he had never heard a woman that Chandler was with make before. He would bump into her in the middle of the night as she came out for a glass of water and he was on his way to the bathroom, sharing an awkward smile and a knowing nod. Even though Joey had been around when Chandler had a girlfriend before, he could tell, this was just different. He felt it in every conversation he would see them have. Every touch he would catch them stealing when they thought no one was looking. The way their faces lit up when they saw each other. The way Chandler would talk about her. The lengths that they would go to in order to protect each other. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

Chandler was different too. It was as if overnight, his awkward roommate turned into this confident man. Well, confident for Chandler anyway. He was calmer, he laughed easy, and smiled more than he had ever seen anyone smile. He was suddenly someone who was sure about what he was doing. Oddly enough, to Joey, it made sense. This was not Janice or Kathy, or some girl he picked up from the sleep clinic or at one of Joey's plays, this was Monica. Someone that knew every stupid thing Chandler had done before or probably knew all the dumb things he would do in the future. She may be the only person in the entire world who knows him as well as Joey does.

Maybe that was why he had his initial aversion to their coupling, or at least, to the very graphic displays of their relationship that he might stumble upon from time to time. He did not want to see them making out, because he knew it was different and he knew that changes were coming. Every time he saw them, kissing in the Barcalounger, holding hands in the kitchen, or when he heard them making loud and obnoxious noises from the bedroom; he knew it meant that they were all getting closer and closer to the inevitable end of Joey and Chandler. Not only would he be sharing his best friend with someone else, but that person was going to inevitably take his place.

He takes another swig from his milk carton, leans up against the kitchen counter and smiles. He cannot help himself. Even in the face of all this unwanted change, he is happy for his two friends. They both really wanted this. He knew that right away just from the looks on their faces. He cannot think of two better people who deserved a shot at happiness. Both of them had always been looking for love, failing to find it, only to have it right under their noses this entire time. Looking back at their friendship, Joey is surprised he never saw it before. The closeness. It was always there. The entire time.

The door to the apartment swings open and Monica walks in, she looks at him and then her eyes fall to the milk carton in his hand. She twists her face up in disgust. "Joey, remind me never to borrow milk from you again."

Joey shrugs his shoulders and places the milk on the counter. "Hey, what's up?"

"I'm going to go downstairs to see if maybe Rachel is still there. You want to get a cup of coffee?"

"Oh, Uh, I'd love to, but I got an audition in an hour."

"Oh. Okay. Chandler went to work and I was just hoping to have someone with me when I told her." Monica makes her way into the living room and crashes down onto Chandler's Barcalounger.

"I can blow it off if you want me to."

Monica shakes her head. "No. I'll be fine. She might not even be there anymore and is probably already on her way to work." Monica lets out a sigh and starts to look around the room.

"Mon, you okay?"

"I'm a little nervous."

"About telling Rach?"

"About this whole me and Chandler living together stuff."

Joey walks over and sits down in the chair next to her. "Oh, well, you don't have to worry about Chandler. He is a great roommate. He was the one who told me that towels needed to be washed."

"You didn't wash your towels?"

"What? I just use them to dry off after I shower. How do they get dirty if I am clean?" He shoots her a prideful look as if he just made a salient point.

Monica sits forward and starts to gesticulate with her hands emphatically. "But Joey! They get damp and that can cause mildew and then they smell and….you know what…never mind." She sits back down and lets out a long exhale. "I'm not worried about living with him."

Joey allows a puzzled look to cross over his face. "No? What is it then?"

"I'm worried that, once he lives with me, he won't be able to handle it."

Joey sits back and starts to laugh. "Seriously? He's nuts about you."

Monica glares at him and sternly admonishes him with her eyes. "Joey! Living with me is different. Phoebe couldn't do it. None of my other boyfriends could even stick around long enough to want to try."

"What about Rachel?"

Monica huffs and looks off to the side. "She had no choice. She didn't have anywhere else to go."

Joey scoffs. "That's not true. Rachel loves living with you."

"Yeah, now. But it wasn't like that in the beginning. I just know that I can be too much sometimes. I can be a little, particular about things."

"You mean crazy?"

Monica sits up and smack him on the arm. "Joey!"

"Ow!" Joey rubs his arm and sneers at Monica, but then his features go soft and he reaches out to hold her hand. "Mon, Chandler knows all of this already. He knows exactly how you are. What was his reaction when you asked him to move in?"

"Well, actually, this was his idea. He asked me."

Joey sits back, a stunned look on his face. "Wait. This was Chandler's idea?" Monica nods. "Mon, that's huge." Monica looks down and allows a shy smile to spread across her lips. "I've never seen him like this before with any other woman."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, he is such a different person now. Can you imagine Chandler from a year ago asking a girl to live with him?"

Monica laughs as she shakes her head. "No."

"Right. Don't you see? This is all different now. You, him. We can all see it. You guys are in this for the long haul."

"Okay, don't get too far ahead of us now."

"No, I'm not; it's just that I can already see it. You two are going to live together now, and then, in a year or so, you'll be engaged. You two will get married and have kids. Let's face it; Chandler is just as weird a name as Hoyt is."

Monica laughs and looks down, tugging at her shirt nervously. "So, you don't think he will feel like this was all a big mistake?"

Joey takes her hand once more and compels Monica to look him in the eyes. "I've never seen two people fall in love like the two of you have. Even with Ross and Rachel, they still had to learn all about each other; but you two are already there. All those things that all those other people you two dated couldn't handle about you guys, well, it seems you two love that about each other. Or, at least, love each other enough to accept all that stuff. You guys want to be around each other all the time. That's special Mon. To have that close of a bond with someone. The rest of us can only hope that happens to us."

Monica smiles and looks down once more. She nods and stands up, pulling him up with her to give him a tight hug. "Thanks Joe. I guess I needed to hear someone say that. Just, uh, do me a favor and don't tell Chandler any of this? I don't know if he could handle a conversation about marriage and babies yet."

Joey laughs and nods knowingly. "Yeah, You're probably right about that. He is different lately, but he ain't that different."


	19. The End of an Era

**The End of an Era**

Rachel sat at the kitchen table and flipped the asterisk shaped paperweight around in her hands. Every now and then, she would stop twirling it and hold it up to let the light from above shine off of its metallic surface. She would catch glimpses of her distorted reflection in the silver bauble that she held on to so tightly. It felt fitting to see her face stretched out and her features obscured by the optical illusion that the object in her hands was creating. Her entire world was being warped and twisted into something unrecognizable. Nothing in her life had the same clarity it once did before Monica and Chandler dropped their bombshell announcement on her. Nothing would ever look quite right again now that they were going to be living together, here, and Rachel was going to be moving out.

She slowly looked around the apartment. This was her home. This was where she lived and now, she was being told she had to leave so that Chandler could move in. It did not seem fair to Rachel. This was not his home. This place was not the backdrop all of his life changing events. He did not deserve to live here in this big beautiful apartment with its perfect purple walls and a bathroom that always smelled like fresh flowers. Boys don't deserve bathrooms that smell that good. His bathroom smelled like wet birds and cheese. Doesn't Monica know what she is inviting into her perfect, pristine home? Can't she see the mess she is making of all their lives?

Her eyes began to study the room intently, stopping only to fixate on some random object that seemed much more significant to her now than it did just a few short hours ago. The green ottoman she tried to move when she first attempted to clean the apartment. She just wanted to try and rearrange a few things, bring a small touch of her own personal style to the place she would call her home. That little green piece of furniture helped teach Rachel a valuable lesson that day when it came to living with Monica. Don't do anything, because Monica would much rather do it herself. It saved Rachel countless hours she might have spent cleaning and moving furniture around or buying decorative trinkets like the stupid silver star she was now holding in her hands. She wondered if Chandler knows that? Or will he have to learn it the hard way like she did. Will Monica break something he likes because she thought that it did not go with the rest of the decor? Would she slyly throw away some object he was fond of simply because Monica found it garish? Would he be as forgiving as Rachel has been all these years? Could he handle actually living with Monica? Rachel could not help but nod to herself. They have been dating for over a year, and in that time, even she had to acknowledge that Chandler was proving to be the one person who may be able to handle Monica even better than she could. He was patient, easygoing, supportive; and yet, he was also still able to playfully chide her when she would start to go overboard, in a way no one else could.

She looked next at the big comfy chair. Large enough that two people could sit in it, comfortably huddled close, side by side. She loved that chair. It was warm and inviting and cozy. When they all gathered here for a meal or to watch a movie, everyone would fight for the couch because it faced the television, but Rachel knew that the best seat in the living room was the chair. Suddenly, half a dozen different images of Monica and Chandler sharing that chair flashed in her mind. Were they always so close? Even before they started dating, they would snuggle up and share that seat. Practically sitting on top of each other almost everywhere they would go. Already accustomed to occupying the same space. Now, they were going to be living together. She wondered if she should have seen it coming. If the two of them showed any other hint of the couple they have now become. Maybe it was there all along, and they just needed a little push. Maybe that is all London was for them. A nudge that gently brought them together.

Then there was the balcony. How many nights had she spent out there? Talking with her friends or simply taking in the view of the city as she indulged in a drink. Where would she find an apartment with a balcony like that ever again? With a view like that? Rachel smirked, finally dispensing of the dour expression she had held ever since Monica left. The memory of the night when it was just her, Phoebe and Monica out there hoping to catch a glimpse of George Stephanopoulos flashed through her mind. It was really just an excuse to lounge around outside on some couch cushions, enjoy the warm air, drink and gossip about what the boys would be like in bed. Even then, it seemed Monica had a soft spot for Chandler. She was always giving him the benefit of the doubt that there was more to him than the sophomoric, clumsy sarcastic guy they all knew. Rachel tried to remember what Monica called him. _"Sophisticated. Him? Really?" _Rachel knew Chandler could have his moments, but sophisticated is not a word she would use to describe him. She placed the sliver asterisk down on the table and allowed her fingers to dance on her chin. She wondered if this was why the two of them seemed to fit together so well. They see things in each other that no one else does.

Rachel ran her hand across the surface of the kitchen table and looked longingly at it. Even this was soaked through with fond memories from the last six years. The meals they had shared here, from cereal, coffee and bagels, to extravagant feasts that you could only find in the most expensive of restaurants. Monica would whip up all of these wonderful dinners on an almost nightly basis, sometimes, just for the two of them. Who was going to cook for her now? She was definitely not going to attempt to prepare her own food. That never ends well. Now Chandler gets to have all those amazing meals with Monica? He gets to pick through those little tins filled with leftover food from the restaurant? Rachel sat up straight and wrinkled her brow. Now that she let herself think about it more clearly, she realized that Monica had been cooking for him long before Rachel ever moved in. He was always there, sitting at the table before work, or joining her on a quiet Saturday evening for dinner. Every Thanksgiving, Monica would always made sure to make him his own, special meal. Rachel wondered why she never noticed that before. Why hadn't the two of them? They both were always very attentive to each other's needs even when they were just friends. Suddenly, Rachel realized that Monica and Chandler being together does not seem so strange after all. In some strange, weird, perfect way, they fit each other.

As she pondered that thought, the front door to the apartment swung open roughly and Joey entered the room in a huff. He looked around and offered her a grunt as a terse greeting. Rachel shook her head and let out an exasperated sigh, sharing a knowing glance with him.

"Can you believe this!"

Joey snorted as he sat down next to her. "I know. Who do they think they are? Aren't we all supposed to vote on stuff like this?"

Rachel nodded angrily in agreement. "Right? What? They get to ruin our lives because they had sex one night!"

Joey grumbled under his breath and hung his arm over the back of his chair. "I hate change."

Rachel let out a loud groan and then reached across the table to snatch a pineapple from the centerpiece. "I hate change! I mean, where am I going to live that just has pineapples like this in a bowl on the table? Do you know where they do this? Nowhere, that's where."

Joey looked over at the pineapple in her hand with a look of puzzlement as he tried to figure out what she was talking about. He shook his head as if to brush it off and then gestured emphatically with his hands. "Where am I going to find a new roommate that I get along with so well? It isn't easy. We all got lucky. Remember that guy Chandler used to live with when I moved out. What if I get one of those? What if I get some guy who thinks I slept with his girlfriend?"

"That doesn't sound that far-fetched Joe."

Joey allowed a lascivious smile to appear on his face. "Yeah, you're probably right about that."

Rachel shook her head. "We have to do something Joe. We have to fix this. I don't want things to change, do you?"

Joey pouted as he looked down. "No."

"Great. Then we have to make sure nothing changes. That everything stays the same."

Joey nodded but then looked over at her with an uncertainty in his eyes. "Uh, okay. So how do we do that?"

Rachel sighed as she sunk down to the table, practically deflating as she shrunk into herself. "I don't know."

Joey's eyes widened as he snapped his fingers. "I got it. You gotta sleep with Chandler."

Rachel twisted her face up in confused disgust. "What?"

"Yeah, think about it. You sleep with him, Monica finds out, they break up, they don't move in together, and then everything says the same."

Rachel rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Yeah, except Monica still probably throws me out for sleeping with her boyfriend."

Joey nodded as a sage expression flashed across his face. "Oh yeah."

"Plus, I don't want to break them up, and I definitely do not want to sleep with Chandler. They are too happy. I'd feel terrible if they broke up."

Joey allowed a smile to spread across his face. "I know. It's crazy isn't it? Monica and Chandler. Who would have seen that?"

Rachel turned her head to scan the room one more time. "You know, I think the signs were always there. Maybe we were all too busy to notice. I think this makes more sense than we realize."

Joey nodded. "Yeah, it's like they just kind of fit, you know."

"Yeah."

The two of them sat in contemplative silence. Joey let out another dejected sigh and Rachel ran her hand over his arm. A crooked smile spread across Joey's lips. "You could sleep with me."

Rachel lifted her hand and slapped him on the shoulder. "Joey! How would that help?"

"I know it would help make me feel better."

"Ugh. You know what Joe, if you aren't going to be useful, then go mope around in your own apartment."

"Okay." Joey got up from the table and turned to walk out. He spun around to face Rachel before he reached the door. "Hey, how about you at least flash me or something."

Rachel sighed angrily and shook her head. "Goodbye Joey."

Joey shook his head in defeat and turned back to the door. Before he could reach the handle, the door opened and Chandler walked in. "Hey guys. What's going on?"

Joey raised an admonishing finger at him and snarled. "You!"

"Uh, everything okay Joe?"

"You know what you did!" Joey stormed out, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Well, that was, uh, something." Chandler lifted his eyebrows dismissively and then approached the kitchen table. "So, Rach. How you doing? Monica told me she talked to you."

Rachel scoffed and threw her hands up. "Oh, I'm wonderful. Everything is great. I love trying to find a new place to live."

Chandler reached into the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Yoo-hoo. "Oh good. I'm glad."

Rachel huffed even louder than before and began to shout. "I was being sarcastic! This is terrible. Do you know how hard it is to find a nice apartment in the city? Why would you do this Chandler? Why?"

Chandler stopped in his tracks and looked over at Rachel apprehensively. "I'm sorry?"

"You should be sorry. Seriously, what brought this on? Was it Vegas? Because they say what happens there should stay there you know."

Chandler pulled out a chair and leaned over the back of it. "No. It wasn't Vegas. I mean, I guess it was sort of about Vegas. When we were there, and I thought we were going to get married, I was really happy, and I think I realized that I was happy because it meant we would live together." Rachel looked up at him as her features softened. "Rach, I just want to be around her all the time. I can't imagine not living in the same place she does. Not waking up every morning in our own bed that we both share. I've never felt that way about anybody before. I know that this is hard for you and Joey and some things will change, but you will always be her best friend. She will always be there for you."

Rachel groused under her breath and shook her head but then allowed a half-smile to lift at the corner of her mouth. "You make a good point. I'm still not happy about this, but I'm not mad at you anymore. I think now, I'm just going to be sad."

Chandler smiled and twisted the cap off of his drink. "Yeah? You sure that you are going to be okay?"

"I don't know. But I do feel a little better knowing how important this is to you guys. How important she is to you. She's my best friend too, and I'm starting to think that you two getting together may have been the best thing that has ever happened to her."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I have to tell you, I never thought you had this in you."

Chandler chuckled as he turned to leave. "You know what, I never thought I had this in me either."

"I guess maybe you are more sophisticated than you let on."

"Really? I don't think so."

"Well, I know at least one person who does. And she is usually right about these kind of things."


	20. One-Millionth as Happy

**One-Millionth as Happy**

Ross Geller could sometimes be considered very irrational. It was a stark contrast from the practical man of science and reason that he prided himself to be. He did not like to acknowledge that there were these two sides to him, but at times of deep self-reflection, he would recognize which Ross Geller had his hands on the wheel of his life. He could look back at his past action and know exactly which one was steering, and sometimes, he could stop himself before he took things too far.

Normally, it was the sane, logical version of himself that was in control. The one who, whenever any problem would arise, would use his intellect to work it out. He would consider all the variables, and above all else, remain reasonable and realistic. He could spend hours trying to predict the cause and effect of all his potential actions in certain situations. Some people would think he was being overcautious, or that he was afraid to take chances, but he liked to think that he was putting himself in the best position he could to succeed. It may appear to others that he was suffering "paralysis of over-analysis", but he knew, through years of experience, that this was the only way to truly achieve his goals.

When it came to finances and protecting his personal investments, Ross rarely took risks. He either currently or at one time has had traveler's insurance, pet insurance, renter's insurance, life insurance, umbrella insurance and even flood insurance; although everyone he knew told him he was crazy to do that since he lived on the third floor. He invested in low-risk dividend paying stocks, treasury bonds and money market accounts. He kept a fairly strict budget and he eschewed impulse spending, but he did allow himself the occasional self-indulgent purchase as long as he used money from his "Ross's Good Time Fund" that he kept separate from his normal savings.

Ross would endure countless jabs at how slow his driving was from his friends and his sister, but he knew that a car was not a toy. He always used the turn signal for every lane change and he made sure to come to full and complete stop at every light and stop sign. He would even count to three-Mississippi before he resumed driving again just to make sure he was being completely safe. He checked and adjusted his mirrors at every red light because he was certain the vibrations of the car as it traveled on the street could shake them out of place, and even the slightest incremental change to their optimum position could be a driving hazard.

He had a spare umbrella in his home and office. He kept clean socks at his sister's apartment. He set two alarm clocks. He measured three times before making a cut. He rarely gambled. He kept three kinds of antihistamines available in his medicine cabinet. He used a dehumidifier and a humidifier just in case one of them worked too well. He had an extra smoke detector installed in his bedroom. He set up the parental controls on his television even though he did not subscribe to any channel that might have content he would consider too inappropriate for Ben. There could be no denying it; Ross Geller was safe, cautious, and grounded.

Unfortunately, that cool, calm and collected version of himself did not seem to return from his trip to Las Vegas. In his place, the high-strung, wild and unpredictable Ross Geller got off that plane when it touched down at LaGuardia airport. If he were being honest, there is a chance he was this more irrational and dangerous version of Ross Geller ever since his marriage and career blew up a few months ago. Long before Vegas he had been stumbling around town aimlessly, displaying poor judgment and making bad decisions.

This version of Ross is the one who thought sleeping with Janice was a good idea. He was the one who rushed off to London to marry a woman he had only been dating for a few months. The one who dove head first into a rugby game that he was ill-prepared for. The one who unceremoniously dumped Bonnie even though he knew that there was a slim chance at trying to work things out again with Rachel. The one who slept with Chloe. The one who bought a monkey. The one who had sex with his ex-wife even after they separated. The one who makes rash, emotional choices devoid of logic. The one who always ends up making things worse for himself in the long run. The one who has no self-control when it comes to affairs of the heart.

If Ross had any sense of self-awareness, he would stop himself right now. He would not be running downstairs in order to tell Rachel that she can still move in with him because he was able to convince Monica and Chandler not to call off their own plans to live together. If Ross were thinking rationally, he probably would realize what a bad idea it is for he and Rachel to become roommates. If Ross were playing it safe right now, he probably would have gotten the annulment the minute they got back to New York.

Unfortunately, at the moment, Ross is not playing it safe, he is not thinking rationally, and he is utterly lacking in self-awareness. That is why he finds himself running head long into yet another terrible and risky attempt at giving himself the same happy ending it seems his sister and best friend are heading towards. If anything, Ross's rash decision making over the last week is their fault more than his. Flaunting how happy they are. Forcing him to watch them begin to build the kind of life he had thought he had already ensured for himself several times over. Be it with Carol or Emily or Rachel. Seeing the two of them so insufferably close that it makes all his own romantic failures even worse by comparison; something he never thought could happen, since they seem pretty terrible all on their own.

How are they doing it? How have they lasted this long without any real threat of having their relationship crumble apart like so many of his own have done? He wasn't exactly sure. He knew that they still had fights, but they never seemed to be those drag-out, bare-knuckled, no compromise kind of fights that he would have. The kind of fight that requires days of reflection and long, serious talks before reconciliation. It seems when they argue about something, one of them makes a joke or takes a playful jab at the other and then they simply forget about it. It is almost as if being right is not as important to them as being together. Which is very hard to believe when you consider one of those two people is Monica Geller. His sister always has to be right. This relationship must mean more to her than even she realizes, if at times she is willing to give that up.

Even in Vegas, when Ross found out that the two of them were fighting about Monica seeing Richard, he thought for a moment that it could be the end of them. Ross would never be able to forgive something like that. A secret rendezvous with an ex that important? How could someone let that go? How could Chandler let that go? He has never displayed that level of confidence in anything. Yet, before Ross could even intervene by talking to one of them about it, they were back together. As if nothing ever happened. Maybe there was still some tension there, but Ross was already halfway to his drunken marriage ceremony with Rachel to notice.

Married. He and Rachel are married. He can't believe it, but it happened. And now, if he could not make this one marriage work out, then he would be zero-for-three in the happily ever after department. Three failed marriages? No one can come back from that. A third divorce might not even be the worst part of this whole thing, as unimaginable as that seems. Instead, he would have this constant reminder of what he failed at thrown in his face every time he visited apartment twenty and saw the two of them together.

He can see where Monica and Chandler are headed. The writing is on the wall. They are going to end up married. Maybe not this year, maybe not next year, but it will happen. He can see it, the marriage, the kids, all of it. It is really just a matter of time. Neither one of them has ever come close to this kind of commitment before. Both of them are embarking on new territory. Yet, as crazy as it seems, in a few months, they will have been a couple longer than he and Rachel were. He knew back then, or at least he thought he knew, that Rachel was the one for him. How can it be any different for Monica and Chandler now? How can they both not be thinking right now exactly what he was thinking back then? And now, they will be living together? Ross knows what that would lead to. He's lived with a woman before. It is fertile ground for thoughts of marriage. Ross simply cannot have his little sister get married before he does. At least, not in the kind of marriage he believes they will have. The kind that doesn't end in divorce and lesbian love triangles.

No, he can't let that happen. Monica can't make it work before he does, and if this marriage with Rachel ends, who knows if he will ever get married again? Let alone find someone new who he will feel about the same way he knows now that he has always felt about Rachel. No, if this plan fails, then he will never catch up to his little sister. Not that he doesn't want her to be happy, but he just always thought that he would get there first. That he would be the pioneer into happily ever after. To have it be the other way around would be too much to take. Her with her one perfect marriage and him with his three failed disasters. It would be humiliating.

With Rachel, it feels like he could already be there. Or at least, they used to feel that way. Even if throughout their relationship, the two of them always seemed like trains on different schedules. He loved her; she didn't know he existed. She loved him; he was oblivious to her feelings and dating Julie. She loved him, he was getting married to Emily, he loves her now, and she doesn't know that they are married. But they are married. That has to count for something. Ross recognizes that it is a bit of the cart before the horse, but he is certain they can still make it work. They did love each other at the same time once. Looking back on it now, maybe it was too intense at times and they were slightly out of sync for most of it. He always wondered if their own personal experiences with marriage may have caused them to have two incredibly separate sets of expectations on what their relationship could be. She ran away from her wedding; he was kicked out of his own marriage. He knows now that it must have given them very different perspectives on commitment and planning for the future. Yet, he always thought that they would finally get to be in the same place at the same time. That their love for each other would be enough to overcome the obstacles they seemed to put in front of themselves. That they both would share the same vision of their future together. That maybe at least, one day, they would be where they are right now. Married. Albeit, with both parties knowing that they were indeed married, but Ross figured that was just a technicality.

As he reached the street he paused and he thought of Monica and Chandler and wondered if that was part of their success so far. They are both in the same place, with the same expectations, and are walking that path together. Maybe they have even talked about the future, although, knowing how Chandler feels about marriage, those talks may not have been as amicable as his sister would have hoped. He wondered if Monica may already know that about Chandler. That could be why they work so well together. They know everything about each other. She knows, that in order for them to take the next step in their relationships, she had to let Chandler be the one to make that move. Could that have been her plan all along? Wait for him to come to her, let him slowly realize that he wants what she wants. Chandler knows that Monica wants marriage and children one day. Could knowing that going into the relationship take the tension off wondering when and how to have that conversation?

Could that work with him and Rachel? Could he convince her slowly over time that she is still in love with him? That she will want to be married? They could even have a real wedding once she is finally ready and then while on their honeymoon, he could tell her all about how he never got the annulment and they'll laugh and it will become a funny, romantic story to tell their children. Much better than "mommy and daddy did it in another country". It seems to make so much sense to him right now. They'll stay married, they'll fall in love, they'll live happily ever after.

As Ross reached the entrance to the coffee house, he paused for a moment as he caught a glimpse of Rachel inside at the counter; doesn't he deserve to be just as happy as Monica and Chandler are right now? Or at the very least, even just one-millionth as happy?


	21. Two Hours, A Lifetime

**Two Hours, A Lifetime**

Monica tried very hard not to think about the thing that she had struggled with keeping buried deep in her subconscious ever since she and Chandler said "I love you" to each other for the first time. It was easy during those first few weeks after coming clean to everyone about their relationship. They were so engrossed in being a couple in front of their friends and basking in that honeymoon phase afterglow, that she barely thought about it. Sure, there were a few times where her defenses were down and the thought sneaked in without warning, but she was able to tamp it down with ease in those early days. Unfortunately, it got harder and harder to fight it with each passing week.

Now, during these last few days, she has done everything she could think of to distract herself from that one thought that would not stop floating around in her head. She tried to suppress it with her work, sometimes spending hours in the kitchen creating new recipes. She would try to distract herself with sex, which had the added bonus of keeping Chandler happy. She tried to keep her attention focused on helping Rachel pack, and even if it meant giving her one of the candleholders that she knew for certain was hers. She would have given Rachel everything she owned and it would have been worth it if it could stop that thought from flashing through her brain.

For a short while last week, she was able to occupy her mind by having fun at her brother's expense when she heard him use that ridiculous fake English accent. She spent almost an entire day with Rachel and they must have left twenty messages on his machine, each time their own attempt at a fake accent becoming more ridiculous than the last. It did not matter to the thought, and however long she was able to avoid thinking about it with frivolous distractions, inevitably, her mind would always return to it. Before their anniversary, she hardly thought about it. She was certain that she had it under control. But then, Vegas happened, and that one all-encompassing thing that she tried so desperately not to think about, had come with her on the trip and it never fully left again.

It started to rumble awake when Chandler made that romantic, yet idiotic and impulsive idea at the craps table. When he suggested that they get married at the whim of a dice roll. That they leave their future together up to fate. It stopped her in her tracks. Under normal circumstances, Monica would have dismissed him immediately. Monica Geller getting married without consulting the wedding book? The one that she has had since she was a little girl? Not likely. However, the thought knew she was not thinking rationally at this moment and it raced to the front of her brain and clouded her with promises that she swore she would not make to herself again until she was certain she could keep them.

All of her inner protests did not matter that night in Vegas and the thought took control. How could she think rationally anyway with the way Chandler looked at her when he told her that he loved her more than anyone else he had ever known. It swept her off her feet. It made her realize, that she felt the exact same way about him. She loved him more than anyone else she had ever known. It was hard not to believe in kismet with the casino floor as the perfect backdrop to their rash decision.

She still had some control over the thought, and she had the wherewithal to give him one last out. When she saw that crooked die stuck under the leg of the table and sitting on its corner, it almost pulled her out of the fantastical state of mind she was in. She looked at him, and told him that it was his call to make. He was the one who would decide their fate. Not her, with the thought swirling around in her mind like a predator. He was going to have to be the one who would either pull the thought right out of her head and make it a reality or bury it so deep she may never think about it again. It was their last chance to find a way out, if they needed it, from this crazy idea he had come up with when emotions were high and a gambler's adrenaline was coursing through their veins.

Leave it to him, the man afraid of commitment, the man who everyone was certain would be the last to ever get married, the man who could find any reason to call off impending nuptials. She waited for that man to show up, but he never did. Chandler was not that man anymore. He was no longer the man she had known all these years who could not make a decision about a relationship without panicking and overthinking it. He was no longer the man who lived across the hall and acted a fool at every opportunity. The man whose skin crawled at the thought of being fully committed. The man who was not boyfriend material. The man who was the last person she could have imagined that would have her thinking about that thing she did not want to think about.

No, this was now her man. He was different. He was confident. He was serious. He had an unwavering resolve about his love for her and he was earnest and he was everything she had ever been looking for, wrapped up in this cool, sexy half-smile that seemed to be telling her everything was going to be okay. He never broke eye contact with her. He never took a second glance at the die that was going to decide their fate. His face was calm and it filled her with this incredible sense of security in her relationship that she had never felt before. His voice was soft, yet his tone conveyed that he had no doubt that what he was saying was true.

"_It's a four."_

That was it. That was all she needed. That was all the thought she had buried deep down had to hear. He told her that he wanted her. Not just for now, but for forever. More importantly, she wanted him in that exact same way. This was it; they were forever now. Fertile ground for that one thing she now thought about daily despite her best efforts.

She constantly looked over at him as they cashed out their chips. He never wavered. He never stumbled on his words or stammered out some joke to defuse the situation in an attempt to backtrack and take it all away. He wanted this as much as she did. It was everything she had wanted since she was a young girl and it was right here in front of her in the most unlikely of forms.

Later that night, and only for a moment, she thought that she went too far, with the thought now controlling her actions. She cradled the Caesar's sweatshirt that was stuffed under her dress as if it were a baby in her womb and for a split second, she worried that her enthusiasm for that thing she was now thinking about would scare him back to reality. Yet, instead of being frightened at the image of her being pregnant, He found amusement. He chuckled and smiled as he placed his hands on her shoulders. He never lost that look in his eye. The look that told her it was all really going to happen for her.

"_One thing at a time."_

It was magical, it was Vegas, it was Chandler and it was everything she wanted to hear. The thought was jumping around in her head now, unfettered and free to control every move she made.

She only got a handle on it when they finally returned home to New York. When they figured out that they were not ready to get married. That no matter what the signs told them, they had to move at their own pace. She thought to herself that the crisis was over, and that one thing she was holding in the back of her mind, that she let free in Vegas, began to fade again into the background. It was almost all the way there, back in its place in her subconscious, but it roared back with a vengeance one he propositioned her in a way that she was not prepared for.

_"What if all my stuff was here?"_

When he asked to move in with her, it made all her efforts to suppress that thought moot. Here he was, telling her he wanted to live with her. It seemed like such a silly thing at first. He lived across the hall. How much closer could their living arrangement get? She thought that perhaps he was joking, but she could see that look again on his face. He wanted this. He didn't want to be in a different space than her anymore. She realized that she wanted it too, more than anything else in the entire world. She jumped into his arms and that scary thing came back and it was all she could think about for days.

When it dawned on her that the actual act of moving in together was not going to happen as quickly as she had hoped, the endorphin rush dissipated, and she was able to somewhat tamp down that thought. She had it buried behind the dread of his Barcalounger ruining her living room's aesthetic and the task of making room for his clothes in her closet. There were actually a few days when she hardly thought about it at all as she ran interference and successfully dissuaded Chandler from executing all of his terrible ideas for the apartment. It was working though, and she felt sane again as the thought took a backseat to everything else.

But then the boxes came out. There were boxes in her apartment with Rachel's stuff from the kitchen and living room. There were boxes in his apartment filled with his winter clothes and his books and his CDs. It seemed, that everywhere she went, she saw a half-packed box lying around somewhere and it was a powerful representation of what was going to happen to her. Each folded sweater vest that she put in her dresser and every pair of his shoes that went in her closet reminded her that soon they would be living together. That wild, crazy, wonderful thought found its way back to the front of her mind. It kept her up at night, not because of any anxiety over the thought, which had been true in the past with her other boyfriends, but _because_ she was giddy at the idea that she may actually be allowed to think about it with no restrictions.

She never had a chance to really entertain this thought seriously before she was with Chandler. She may have had it once or twice, but with the other men, it was fleeting. The men she knew before him were either too unreliable, too old, too rich and eccentric, too young or too juvenile. None of them dated her for over a year. None of them would ever have entertained the idea of impulsively marrying her in Vegas. None of them wanted to live with her. None of them could have handled it. None of them were Chandler.

She did have her doubts about Chandler before Vegas, and they were enough to keep the thought out of her mind. But now, with each passing day, and with every step forward they took, and with every confident smile he flashed her, that thought became bigger and bigger until it became so enormous, she could not avoid it anymore.

It was all she could think about when he spent last week taking care of Joey. Chandler would see her at night and share his worries about Joe, his undiagnosed hernia and his lack of money. He did everything he could to try and help him back on his feet, even taking him to auditions and tapings. His concern was so overwhelming that he couldn't sleep, and she would find him lying awake beside her as he tried to figure out a way to trick Joey into going to the doctor and letting him pay for it. She was not sure if she had ever loved him more than when she watched him riddled with such heartfelt concern. It made that thought easier to think about as she marveled at the level of an almost brotherly protectiveness he felt and the responsibility for Joey's well-being he burdened himself with. It let her know she was right to think that one thought more and more each day. It was proof that he was no longer the jittery, childish imp that lived across the hall.

None of these things made the thought more powerful though, then the events of today. These last couple of hours almost broke Monica down and would have had her shout the thought aloud to everyone and anyone who would listen to her. Everything about today made her finally stop trying to avoid the thought altogether. It was useless to resist it anymore as she watched him. He would look up at her and they shared a knowing smile that spoke far more words than anything they could have said out loud. His smile told her, that here they were, practicing for their future.

They sat on the couch, each one with a different baby in their arms, and it could not have felt more natural. As he played with baby girl Chandler, she felt as if she were about to burst. He took to feeding her as if he had been doing it all his life. He cuddled her and talked to her in this almost cartoon-like, sing-song voice that was so cute, Monica was certain her heart was going to shatter into a million pieces.

It was in that very moment, when she was sure she could not love him more. She was amused at how her love for him was still growing after being together for over a year. Without warning, the thought pulsated through her mind. It was big and bold and unapologetic as it smashed through every fear and every doubt that she had ever had. She finally gave in, stopped fighting and succumbed to it willingly.

When he left the apartment, just after the babies went down for their first nap, she couldn't help but smile. She was certain Phoebe would have said something to her if she was not so wrapped up in trying to do the best job that she could, watching the triplets for her brother. Her diligence allowed Monica to have a small moment to herself, and it let her come to terms with her new reality living with that one thought that used to scare her so much, but now washed over her and made her feel powerful and self-assured in all the choices she had made in her life that lead her to this.

She knew the thought was now a reality, even though they had only spent two hours with the triplets. Those two hours were enough for her to know with a clarity that allowed her to embrace the thought she had foolishly tried to avoid. Up until these last few weeks, she had thought that there was a chance it was wrong, like it had been a few times before. This time, it wasn't wrong. This time, the thought was true.

It did not matter how long it would take the thought to be actualized, The signs were all there. They were not those false signs from Vegas, ones that contained no substance behind them. These were real signs. These were the signs she had been waiting for her entire life.

She knew it was true because of how confident he was in his love for her and in her love for him. She knew it was real, because he was ready to do it in Vegas. She knew that he thought about it too, because he did not flinch when she made a joke in that gift shop about being pregnant. She knew it was right because of how much he obsessed over the wellbeing of a friend who might as well have been family. And finally, she knew it was going to really happen this time, when she saw how he was holding that baby, like he was born to do it.

The thought was blaring now, stronger than at any other time in her life and she surrendered to it happily, because now, she knew the thought was true. She was going to marry Chandler. They were going to have babies together. They were going to be a family. They were going to live happily ever after.


	22. Cannot Get a Minute of Peace

**Can't Get a Minute of Peace Around This Place**

People like to describe Phoebe as flighty, whimsical, and out of touch with reality. They think that she is a dreamer who has her head in the clouds and does not focus her attention on what is happening around her. They claim that she lives in a fantasy world of soothsayers, spirits, fortune tellers and omens. Some people even use the old cliché that she plays to the beat of her own drum, although she actually likes it when people say that one. It makes her sound musical.

Phoebe thinks that it is so odd that people have this impression of her, since she has always only seen herself as someone with a deep, resonating connection to the world she lives in. She prides herself on how she can decipher the tiny vibrations of life's synchronicities unlike anyone else. To her, it is as if there is this secret, coded language that she shares with the universe and all the creatures that live in it, and it gives her greater insight into everything going on around her. Thanks to this special relationship, she is confidant in how observant she can be, with keen senses that pick up on even the slightest details; most times, she doesn't even know she is doing it. Yet, she certainly has a talent for discovering the truth and unearthing every secret about everyone she knows. Although, eavesdropping and reading other people's mail doesn't hurt either.

She imagines that people think she does not pay attention to anything because they cannot see the world in the way that she can. She knows that in truth, if they took in as much input as she does, they would also be much too busy trying to filter out all the signals and they would block out most of the mundanity of life, if for no other reason, then just to get a moment of peace. It would probably do her friends good to stop focusing on the day to day minutiae of their lives anyway. It would allow them to see the bigger picture around them and maybe they would be less caught up in their own small dramas. Less self-absorbed and more in tune with nature.

Phoebe prides herself on the fact that she sees so much more than she lets on, and it helps to keep everyone off-balance when she decides to share one of her little insights or springs some personal information on them that they had thought they were keeping private and hidden away from everyone else. She can tell exactly when Joey last ate meat by his dilated pupils and the glazed look the he gets in his eyes. She can see the rush of color on Monica's cheeks and the slight tangles in her hair, which are always a dead giveaway that she had sex within the last four or five hours. She can smell the specific stink of the subway on Ross's clothes and know exactly where he came from before he showed up at Monica's apartment. She can hear Rachel's words whistle through her teeth when she speaks as she walks in the door and know exactly how bad of a day she had at work. She can detect the dry patches of skin on Chandler's hands and immediately know if he did or did not wash them off before he exited the bathroom.

Because of her ability to pick up on all these non-verbal cues, she can get very frustrated with her friends and the self-centered way they live their lives. If anyone should be called out for daydreaming and ignoring the world around them, it should probably be the five of them, not her. They would never make it out in the real world where you can't sit around, drink coffee, and complain about your job and your exes all the time while being oblivious to everything else that is going on in the room. If her years living on the streets taught her anything, it is that you must be alert, aware of your surroundings, and ready for anything. No matter how wild and unpredictable it may be.

Anyway, who were they to look down on her for not being able to immediately recall some insignificant coworkers name during one of their long, boring stories about fossils or new clothing lines or spreadsheets. None of them could even remember Denise after all the times she had mentioned her in the past. Each of them acting surprised and shocked that she had gotten a roommate after her grandmother died. What did they think; that she was paying the rent all on her own? On a masseuse's salary? Not likely.

Yet, Phoebe knows that she can't blame them for thinking she is as obtuse as they are. Most days, she ignores a lot of the details they share and instead, stores all that information up in her subconscious somewhere, which then pops out from time to time, almost of its own free will. Her brain operating like a computer, where all of that white noise from her friends about their jobs, or whatever person they may be dating, or which relative they feel slighted by, gets sorted out in her memory banks, only to be recalled at the perfect time to disarm them and leave them muttering to themselves as they wonder how she could possibly know whatever it was that she just said.

Unfortunately, even with all her innate ability to read the invisible wavelengths that traveled around her, there were still some things that she just did not understand. Paramount among them were the romantic relationships and intertangling that swirl around her group of friends.

Take Ross and Rachel. Phoebe could not explain to anyone with certainty why they were not together. It was obvious to her that they were still in love with each other. Although, she did have to admit, that maybe they were not always in love with each other at the same time. But she knew that they were definitely, at times, maybe separately, sometimes, in love. As far as Phoebe was concerned, it made perfect sense. After all, Rachel raced off to London to declare her love for Ross. Ross refused to get their Vegas marriage annulled, against her wishes, because he was still in love with Rachel. Neither of them really entertained relationships with other people that seriously. Sure, maybe Ross was going to marry Emily, but that didn't last. Another clutch of details that eluded her, thanks to stupid London.

They were Ross and Rachel. They were lobsters. They were the great love story of their little group. The one's that had them all enthralled for years, as everyone experienced the highs and lows together. Each one of them invested in the outcome and acting like a type of Greek chorus (which come to think of it, reminded Phoebe to order a Greek salad on the way home after helping Rachel pack) that followed the two of them around and practically sang to the heavens about their courtship. The whole group cheered for them and cried with them. It was almost like, for a moment, the rest of them could feel that primal connection to the world like Phoebe can, and for a brief time, they surrendered themselves to it, experiencing emotions that were shared between them all like a psychic bond. And now, for the life of her, Phoebe could not figure out why Ross and Rachel did not just get over themselves and accept their fate and get back together. It would really be better for the entire group if they did.

An even harder coupling for Phoebe to figure out was Monica and Chandler. They did not make any sense to her, at all. Obviously, she was happy that two of her friends found love, and she celebrated every advancement in their relationship, but when it came to the two of them as a universal match made in the stars, she just did not see it. They did not have the same magnetic pull like Ross and Rachel did.

Where were the fireworks? The passion? Where was the back-and-forth tug of war that all great romances endure in order to be considered classic and stand the test of time? If this was truly a situation where two people had found their soulmates, then why did they keep it hidden for so long from everyone? Wouldn't they want to flaunt it in front of everyone if they felt the same fiery, undying love as Ross and Rachel had during those first few years?

They did not act like Ross and Rachel or Heathcliff and Catherine or Romeo and Juliet. They weren't driven mad by love. Obsessive and all consumed by their feelings for each other. They were more like, well, like they had always been. They weren't some surrogate of a classic, tragic love story. They were just Monica and Chandler. They were close friends who cared about each other, enjoyed being together, and accepted each other's faults. What kind of relationship was that?

Then, there was how incompatible they seemed. Monica was this dominating, sexy little creature who liked older, more mature men that were well-traveled and sophisticated. She wanted to get married and have babies. She believed in true love, and she always got so excited when she first met someone new and would obsess about her burgeoning relationship in those early days when it was new. She would so consumed by a new relationship, that Phoebe would sometimes avoid coming over until she was at least going out with someone for more than a few weeks. She was practically incorrigible in the early phases of love. Where was all of that with Chandler? Phoebe never saw her smiling to herself and dancing around the apartment like she had with other men.

Plus, this was Chandler. Chandler! He was not some hunky, mysterious, older man who could sweep someone off their feet. He made weird noises, and bad jokes, and he fidgeted a lot and could not sit still. He was awkward and self-deprecating to the point where it was no longer charming and was instead, bordering on pathetic. He laughed too loud at bad movies, and constantly had to fill the quiet moments with some lame attempt at wit. He was afraid of commitment, his skin crawled at the idea of marriage, and he did not believe in karma or fate. He never took anything Phoebe would tell him about her psychic abilities seriously. What Monica saw in him; Phoebe did not know.

However, Monica obviously saw something there. Something even Phoebe could not see, because when she watches them together, they seem happier than any other two people she had ever known. Even tonight, when Monica came out of her bedroom , ready for a night on the town with her girls, the two of them shared a moment. It was so tiny, that Phoebe is certain no one but her would have been able to pick up on it. They made each other laugh and smile as Monica squeezed in close to him on the big comfy chair. They eyes opened wide and their arms instinctively knew where to go in order to wrap around each other perfectly. They were so happy in that moment. Even Phoebe, with her doubts, had to recognize that they seem to fill in all those gaps that normally exists between people. They locked into place like two gears in a machine that were perfectly molded for each other. She does not understand why, and she does not know how, but they just fit.

So, despite how wildly incompatible she thought they were, and even if she still insisted that they would end in divorce or something even worse than that, foul play perhaps? Monica does have a lot of practice with knives. Another detail for her to store away for future use. Still, regardless of Phoebe's misgivings, these were two of her best friends, and she was determined to make sure that they were happy, even if what made them happy was incredibly difficult to understand.

Because even without understanding the how and why of Monica and Chandler, Phoebe knew it was real. Real enough for the two of them to decide that they wanted to live together. Real enough that Chandler was moving out and leaving Joey to fend for himself. Real enough, that it was threatening Monica's friendship with Rachel as they fought with each other and sniped insults that obviously cut deep. Phoebe even made a mental note to find out the truth behind each hurled offense as she still wondered what Rachel meant by "stumbling across the hall and sleeping with the first guy I find in there". That had to be juicy.

Phoebe knew what this spat between these two was all about. It wasn't about phone pens and lost messages. It was about the fact that ever since Monica and Chandler got together, everything was changing, and the entire paradigm of the group was shifting. Even Phoebe could feel it. They were no longer six friends who were each other's surrogate family. They were four friends and a couple. Monica and Chandler moving in together was just the crystallization of everything they all already knew.

Now, the two of them would have their own story, apart from everyone else, in a way that none of them had before. Not even Ross and Rachel. Every detail about every fight and every break-up they had was broadcast loudly to the group, sometimes before they even finished breakfast. Monica and Chandler though, keep things between them, for the most part, Like how they could have been dating and how they fell in love behind everyone's back. How they could make this huge decision about living together without seeking advice from everyone else first. How they could be so happy and so in love without anyone else being involved. It was practically unnatural.

Still, it was what they wanted. It made them happy. And they are two of Phoebe's best friends. And Rachel is one of her best friends. And no matter what Phoebe thought about her friends and their lack of a connection with the universe and their poor lifestyle choices, she was not going to let them pull apart. She was going to have to fix this, as per usual. She was going to have to figure out a way to get Monica and Rachel out of this fight and back to normal again. She would have to manipulate them and trick them into thinking they did it all on their own. Once again, Phoebe does all the work and gets none of the accolades. It's exhausting having to take care of the five of them all the time. She simply cannot get a moment of peace.

"Hey, you guys, I don't mean to make things worse, but, uh, I don't want to live with Rachel anymore."


End file.
